irremediable mischief might result, and prudently resolved to keep her
beyond the pale of temptation.

It was almost dark when he reached the secluded house where he had
passed so many days and nights of anxiety, and went into the quiet
room in which only a dim light was permitted to burn. Katie was
sitting near the bed, but rose at his approach, and softly withdrew.

Emaciated and ghastly, save where two scarlet spots burned on the
hollow cheeks, Mrs. Gerome lay, with her wasted arms thrown over her
head, and her eyes fixed on vacancy. Even when delirium was at its
height she yielded to the physician's voice and touch, like some wild
creature who recognizes no control save that of its keeper; and from
his hand alone would she take the medicines administered.

Whether the influence was merely magnetic, he did not inquire, but
felt comforted by the assurance that his presence had power to
tranquillize her.

Now, as he drew her arms down from the pillow, and took her thin hot
hand in his cool palms, a shadowy smile stole over her features, and
she fixed her eyes intently on his.

"I knew you would protect me from him."

"Protect you from whom?"

"From Maurice. He is hiding yonder,--behind the window-curtain."

She pointed across the room, and a scowl darkened her countenance.

"You have only been dreaming."

"No, I am awake; and if you look behind the curtain you will find him.
His eyes are burning my face."

Willing to dispel this fantasy, Dr. Grey went to the window, and,
drawing aside the lace drapery, showed her the vacant recess.

"Ah, he has escaped! Well, perhaps it is better so, and there will be
no blood shed. Let him go back to Edith,--'golden-haired Edith
Dexter,'--and live out the remnant of his days. He came hoping to find
me dead, but I am not as accommodating now as formerly. Where are
those violets? Tell Elsie to bring the jars in, where I can smell
them."

He took a bunch of the fragrant flowers from his coat pocket, and put
them in her hand, for during her illness she was never satisfied
unless there was a bouquet near her; and now, having feebly smelled
them, her eyes closed.

More than once she had mentioned the name of Edith Dexter, always
coupling it with that of Maurice, who she evidently believed was
lurking with evil purposes around her home; and Dr. Grey was sorely
perplexed to follow the thread that now and then appeared, but failed
to guide him to any satisfactory solution of