down her back, while her face was so white and ghastly that Madam
Conway in much alarm followed her up the stairs, asking what had
happened.

"Something dreadful came to me in the woods," said Maggie; "but I
can't tell you to-night. To-morrow I shall be better--or dead--oh, I
wish I could be dead--before you hate me so, dear grand--No, I didn't
mean that--you aint; forgive me, do;" and sinking to the floor she
kissed the very hem of Madam Conway's dress.

Unable to understand what she meant, Madam Conway divested her of her
damp clothing, and, placing her in bed, sat down beside her, saying
gently, "Can you tell me now what frightened you?"

A faint cry was Maggie's only answer, and taking the lady's hand
she laid it upon her forehead, where the drops of perspiration were
standing thickly. All night long Madam Conway sat by her, going once
to communicate with Arthur Carrollton, who, anxious and alarmed, came
often to the door, asking if she slept. She did sleep at last--a
fitful feverish sleep; but ever at the sound of Mr. Carrollton's voice
a spasm of pain distorted her features, and a low moan came from her
lips. Maggie had been terribly excited, and when next morning she
awoke she was parched with burning fever, while her mind at intervals
seemed wandering; and ere two days passed she was raving with
delirium, brought on, the physician said, by some sudden shock, the
nature of which no one could even guess.

For three weeks she hovered between life and death, whispering oft
of the horrid shape which had met her in the woods, robbing her of
happiness and life. Winding her feeble arms around Madam Conway's
neck, she would beg of her most piteously not to cast her off--not to
send her away from the only home she had ever known--"For I couldn't
help it," she would say. "I didn't know it, and I've loved you all so
much--so much! Say, grandma, may I call you grandma all the same? Will
you love poor Maggie a little?" and Madam Conway, listening to words
whose meaning she could not fathom, would answer by laying the aching
head upon her bosom, and trying to soothe the excited girl. Theo, too,
was summoned home, but at her Maggie at first refused to look, and,
covering her eyes with her hand, she whispered scornfully, "Pinched,
and blue, and pale; that's the very look. I couldn't see it when I
called you sister."

Then her mood would change, and motioning Theo to her side she would
say to her, "Kiss me once, Theo, jus