Doctor Laurens answered, gravely: “I am sure my brother did not know this important fact or he would have acted differently, Phebe.” “Yes, sir,” said the woman, dropping him a profound courtesy. “Are any of the servants beside yourself aware of what has happened?” The woman answered promptly in the negative. “I saw Mr. Laurens bringing my mistress into the house in his arms and ran into the room to assist her--that is how I overheard all,” she said, with such a frank, truthful air that Doctor Laurens immediately enjoined: “You seem to be a good, intelligent woman, Phebe, and I want you to keep this secret locked in your own breast. Will you do so?” “It shall never pass my lips, sir; for I’m sure my poor young lady never did all them dreadful things that lady said.” “Thank you, Phebe, for your confidence in my sister-in-law. She does not look like an arrant sinner, does she, with that sweet, innocent face? Any way, no matter how she has sinned, her condition gives her a claim on my brother that he can not in honor disregard. So we will try to patch up a reconciliation between them, and a remarriage may be necessary. I speak frankly to you, Phebe, seeing what a good woman you are, and devoted to that poor girl,” said the young man. “Devoted--yes indeed, sir, for no servant ever had a sweeter, kinder mistress,” said the woman, in tears. “Then you understand the vital necessity of saving her name from scandal, and I need caution you no more about the strict keeping of her secret,” said the young physician as he again bent over his patient, in whom he detected signs of returning life. In fact Molly’s eyes opened languidly a few minutes later with a puzzled air at finding herself in bed with the gas lighted in the room, whereas her last recollection had been of the sunset hour. “Cecil,” she murmured, with a restless movement, and Phebe said, soothingly: “He is not here just this moment, Mrs. Laurens. You have been sick, and here is your brother-in-law, the doctor, who has been attending to you.” She met Charley Laurens’ compassionate blue eyes fixed on her, and instant consciousness returned to her mind. Burying her face in the pillow her slight form shook heavily with anguished sobs. “Let her alone, Phebe. Let nature have its way, and she will feel better after weeping,” said the sympathetic young doctor. He was right, for when the tempest of sobs and tears had exhausted itself Molly began to grow quiet, and at last turned her pathetic, wet eyes on his face, and said, with a sort of wistful anger: “Why are you here when all the rest have turned against me and gone away?” He answered, gently: “I came and found you sick and alone save for your faithful maid. I stayed then to help to make you well.” With a restless movement she rejoined: “I do not want to get well! You ought to know that. I want to die!” “That is nonsense, my dear little sister, and I do not want to hear any more of it,” was the cheerful response.