As the day wore on, the wound developed a dangerous phase. Fever and delirium set in; Ronald's pale face grew scarlet, his dim eyes bright with fever fires. He tossed restlessly on his pillows, and babbled ceaselessly of his loved Lina, interspersing his flighty murmurs with poetical quotations. "Hiawatha's Wooing" seemed to linger in his mind like a pleasant dream. He would murmur over and over: "Pleasant was the journey homeward: All the birds sang loud and sweetly." And again: "Over wide and rushing rivers In his arms he bore the maiden." At noon General Valchester arrived. He had a brief, private interview with Dr. Leslie; then they telegraphed for a celebrated Richmond physician. The brooding shadows of the death-angel's wing hung dark and heavy over Laurel Hill. In the rainy, dreary sunset Charlie Meredith drove over in his buggy. "I would have come sooner," he said, "but I have been to town to consult a lawyer for my niece. So when I got home and wife told me Lina had never got back, I thought I'd drive over and inquire after Mr. Valchester, and fetch her home if she'd a mind to go." Mr. Earle, to whom he was talking, looked at him with a start of surprise. "I am sorry to say that Mr. Valchester is in a very critical condition," he replied. "After his father came up at noon to-day he immediately telegraphed for a physician from Richmond." "I am sorry to hear that," said Mr. Meredith. "Perhaps, then, my niece will not be ready to go home yet?" And again Mr. Earle looked surprised. "Miss Meredith went home at daylight this morning," he answered. "Eh--what? I don't think I understand you," said Charlie Meredith. "Your niece went home at daylight this morning," Mr. Earle repeated. The farmer's healthy brown skin turned pale. He looked dazed. "Mr. Earle, you must be mistaken," he said. "Lina has never been home to-day. She walked over here yesterday afternoon, and she has not been at home since." "She certainly left Laurel Hill early this morning," Mr. Earle said, perplexed. "Walter walked with her to the lawn gates. He wished to drive her over in the phaeton, but she declined, so he told me, and insisted on going home alone. I sincerely trust that no harm has befallen little Lina." Mr. Meredith looked grave and a good deal troubled. "Is it not strange she should have started home so soon in the morning? I cannot understand it." Walter came out just then. He grew pale when they told him that Jaquelina had never come home that day. He remembered what a hopeless despair had looked at him from the dark eyes and the fair young face when they parted. "And yet I never dreamed of anything wrong," he said to himself, with a pang of pain at his heart. "Oh, why did I let her go alone? I should have known better from the look on her face." He said aloud, more cheerfully than he felt: "Perhaps she grew weary and stopped in at some of the neighbors to rest. I will go with you to inquire, Mr. Meredith."