ionless upon her pillow, sleeping as easily and reposefully as a
child. And close to her head, Sir Adrian, reclining in the arm-chair,
asleep likewise. His arm was stretched limply over the bed and, on its
sleeve still stained with the red mud of the grave in Scarthey, rested
Lady Landale's little, thin, ivory-white fingers.

* * * * *

Thus ended Molly's brief but terrible madness.

"Then you have hope, real hope?" asked Sir Adrian, of the physician as
they met again that day in the gallery.

"Every hope," replied the man of science with the proud consciousness
of having, by his wisdom, pulled his patient out of the very jaws of
death. "Recovery is now but a question of a time; of a long time, of
course, for this crisis has left her weaker than the new-born babe.
Repose, complete repose, sleep: that is almost everything. And she
will sleep. Happily, as usual in such cases, Lady Landale seems to
have lost all memory. But I must impress upon you, Sir Adrian, that
the longer we can keep her in this state, the better. If you have
reason to believe that even the sight of _you_ might recall
distressing impressions, you must let me request of you to keep away
from the sick room till your wife's strength be sufficiently restored
to be able to face emotions."

This was said with a certain significance which called the colour to
Sir Adrian's cheek. He acquiesced, however, without hesitation; and,
banished from the place where his treasure lay, fell to haunting the
passages for the rest of the day and to waylaying the privileged
attendants with a humble resignation which would have been sorrowful
but for the savour of his recent relief from anguish.

But the next morning, Lady Landale, though too weak of body to lift a
finger, too weak of mind to connect a single coherent phrase,
nevertheless took the matter into her own hands, and proved that it is
as easy to err upon the side of prudence as upon its reverse.

Miss O'Donoghue, emerging silently from the room after her night's
vigil, came upon her nephew at his post, and, struck to her kind heart
by his wistful countenance, bade him with many winks and nods enter
and have a look at his wife.

"Don't make a sound," she whispered to him, "and then she won't hear
you. But, faith she's sleeping so well, it's my belief if you danced a
jig she would not stir a limb. Go in, child, go in. It's beautiful to
see her!"

And Adrian, pressed by his ow