“I had some money in my pocket,” continued Aline. “Papa had given it me to buy a black silk dress. I walked to the next station from here, bought a ticket to Florida, and went to Effie and Dr. Anthony. You see, Mr. Delaney, there was nothing remarkable at all in my second disappearance from home,” she said. “You should have written to your parents,” he said. “I am ashamed to say that I would not do so,” she answered. “I thought that if I let them all think that I was dead, my father would drop the subject of the threatened duel. I did not want him to be killed, neither did I want you to be hurt, for, angry as I was, I shrunk from the thought of bloodshed. So I would not write myself, nor would I suffer Effie to write.” “You would have spared us all much unhappiness had you done so,” he said. “I came home to Maywood with them at last,” she said. “By that time they had argued me into a more reasonable mood. I was willing to return home; but that morning they came over to Chester I did not come with them. I sent them before me as _avant couriers_, with the caution not to tell them unless they were very anxious over me. They brought back such news that I was stunned. Delaney House burned to the ground; the deformed maniac dead; you wounded by my father’s hand and your whole story revealed; my own name cleared from obloquy, and my friends all ready to crave my pardon for their unkindness. It took my breath away.” He smiled in spite of his pain as he saw the sudden joy-light flash over her face. What mattered all that had happened to him so that she was saved, this fair sweet girl who had suffered so unjustly. “You must be very angry with papa, aren’t you, Mr. Delaney?” she asked, wistfully. “Angry? No! I have never blamed him. In his place I should have acted the same, no doubt,” he replied, calmly. “But I am very sorry, and so is papa. I came over this morning, and it was one of the first things he told me. He would give anything in the world to undo what he has done!” exclaimed Aline. “Anything?” he repeated. “Anything!” she reiterated, earnestly. “And you, Aline?” he questioned. “I feel worse than papa over it,” said the girl in her frank, innocent way. CHAPTER LXVI. Mrs. Griffin had slipped out of the room quietly with her tray of empty dishes a moment before. They were alone. Aline shivered a little. He looked so wan and ill, what if he should die here alone with her? She half rose from her seat, trembling with agitation, and made a step toward the door. “Are you going so soon?” he asked wistfully. It flashed over her that it was cowardly to leave him alone because she was afraid to see him die. When he held out his hand to her she went up bravely to his side. “I will try not to be afraid,” she said to herself. “You are going before I have said all that I wish to say to you,” he said. A sudden light flashed over her face. “Oh, and there is something I must say to you--I had nearly forgotten!” she exclaimed.