"He will never get well; he will die, my love, my darling, my husband!" she cried out, shrilly, in sudden terror and despair. And Eliot turned his heavy head toward her, as if some chord of memory had been struck by her voice, and began to babble of other things--of the dark days of imprisonment in the cellar-room of the house on Esplanade Street, of the beloved little companion who had shared those horrors, and whose life he had saved by that desperate deed of self-sacrifice. She stood listening with dark, dilated eyes, hearing for the first time how her life had been saved that night. Carmontelle was standing close by her side. She turned her dark, amazed, tear-wet eyes on his face, and murmured hoarsely: "Is it truth, or the ravings of fever and delirium?" "It is truth," he answered; and, with a wild, remorseful cry, Una ran out of the room. He followed her into the next apartment. She had thrown herself into a chair, and was sobbing wildly. "Una, why do you take it so hard?" he expostulated. "Surely, no wife could object to such devoted love!" She looked up at him with agonized entreaty in her eyes. "Was it love, or--pity?" she cried. "I--I thought--Sylvie Van Zandt told me so--that he loved Ida Hayes before he ever met me, and would have married her but for that--trouble--that forced him to make me his wife." "It was a fiendish falsehood!" declared Carmontelle, emphatically. "Eliot never thought of Ida Hayes. He loved you from the first moment he saw you." "Ignorant Little Nobody as I was?" she exclaimed, in wonder. "Yes; ignorant Little Nobody that you were!" he replied, smiling. "He told me before he married you how glad he was that a strange fate had given you to his keeping. You were destined for my bride, you know, and Van Zandt, being poor, would not tell his love until that happy accident gave you to his arms." She exclaimed remorsefully: "Oh, what a wretch I was to believe Sylvie and doubt my noble husband! I thought, when I ran away, that he would get a divorce and marry Ida. But he loved me all the time, my noble darling! Oh, if I had known before that it was his precious life-current he gave me to drink, that time when we both believed I was dying, all would have been so different. I could not then have doubted his fidelity. No wonder I could not keep from loving him all the time, when it was his own life flowing in my veins and keeping me faithful to my husband." "Do not blame yourself for doubting him; it was but natural, my dear," said her cousin. "Mrs. Bryant Van Zandt is the only one to blame. She hated you because you spoiled her match-making. But now you will have your revenge on that treacherous doll. You will be much richer than she is, and can queen it over Sylvie and Ida in royal fashion." She smiled through her tears, but answered: "I do not care for the money, only to make dear Eliot rich. Oh, cousin, do you think he will get well? Heaven would not be so cruel as to take him from me now!"