I believe he would have fired upon me at that moment, but the lady sprang forward and caught his arm.  A slight struggle ensued, then followed a sharp report, and the pistol fell to the ground; a fearful shriek rent the air, and Richard fell heavily to the floor, covered with blood.  I rushed to help him.  He raised his glassy eyes to mine, and faintly murmuring “My God!  I am lost!” expired.

CHAPTER XXI.

The shock was too much for me.  I was seized with fearful dizziness.  The objects in the room became black before my eyes, and I fell to the floor beside the bleeding corpse, insensible.

Convulsions, I was afterwards told, followed this swoon.  A raging fever attacked me, and for weeks my life was despaired of.  At length the crisis passed; my youthful constitution conquered the disease, and I was again restored to the world in which I had experienced so much joy and so much misery.

One morning the delicious feeling of returning consciousness revived me.  Where was I?  The room looked familiar, yet strange.  Surely I had seen that silken coverlet before!  The carved footboard of the bed on which I was lying was not new to my sight.  My weak brain was busy with conjectures, when a woman approached, carrying a glass and spoon.  It was Mary, the housekeeper of Bristed Hall.

“Why, Mary, are you here?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes, Miss, but you must not talk.  Take these drops.  I am heartily glad you are better, Miss.”

A sense of rest and peace stole over me, followed by a few hours of natural sleep.

On opening my eyes from this refreshing slumber, I found Mary still sitting near me.

“Mary,” said I, “you must tell me where I am; everything here looks so natural, and yet as if I were in a dream.”

“You are not dreaming, Miss.  You are in your own chamber in Bristed Hall.”

Bristed Hall!  A warm gush of gratitude pervaded my being.  So I was not friendless!  I was cared for.

“Where is Mr. Bristed?” I asked after a pause.

“We have persuaded him to drive out, miss, as the doctor said you were out of danger.  Anxiety for you and grief for Herbert’s death have quite taken his strength away.”

“I must get up, Mary.  You must help me to dress.”

“Oh no, miss!” she replied; “you are not strong enough yet.”

“I am quite strong.  Besides, it will revive me; I am weary of the bed, and need a change.”

She acquiesced in my wish, dressed me neatly, and smoothed my hair.

“Now, take me down,” I requested.  “I wish to surprise Mr. Bristed.”

Of course she remonstrated, said I would bring on the fever again, and all that; but as I persisted in my determination, she led me down the stairs.  The fresh air invigorated me; I felt every minute increased power.  At my request, she took me to Mr. Bristed’s conservatory.  The bright flowers, the singing birds in their ornamented cages, and the adjoining study with its well-filled shelves, all reminded me of the past.  Tears came to my eyes as I recalled the bitter changes I had seen since leaving that sunny home!