mistaken the direction.

One instant more, too quick for a cry, too quick for a moan, she had
stepped off the veranda, and fell with a terrible thud down five feet
below, and lay, stunned and unconscious, on the graveled walk.

The shock was so sudden, so terrible that surely God in His mercy was
kind in that the fearful pain of the fall was not realized by her.

The moments dragged themselves wearily by as she lay there. Fully half
an hour elapsed. No one missed her save Katy, no one thought of looking
for her out in the cold and darkness, which was penetrated only by the
dim light of the stars. The dew of night fell silently, pityingly upon
the white, upturned face and curling golden hair, which lay tangled
among the sharp pebbles. Gradually consciousness dawned upon her brain.
The warm blood crept back to the chilled veins and pulsed feebly, but
with it came the remembrance of the terrible blow that had fallen upon
her.

Dorothy staggered to her feet, but as she did so a strange electric
shock seemed to pass through her body and balls of fire to whirl before
her eyes. But as they cleared away a great cry broke from the girl's
lips:

"Oh, God! can it be true? Heaven has restored my sight to me as
miraculously as it was taken from me!"

Once again she saw the blue sky, with its myriads of golden-hearted
stars, bending over her; the great stone house, with its lighted
windows, and beyond, the tall, dark oak trees, with their great,
widespread tossing branches; and she fell upon her knees and kissed the
very stones at her feet and the green blades of waving grass that she
never once thought she would see again, and she raised her white arms to
heaven with such piteous cries of thankfulness that the angels must have
heard and wept over.

Yes, Dorothy's sight had been restored to her as miraculously as it had
been taken from her.

But even in the midst of her great joy the dregs of woe still lingered
as memory brought back to her the terrible ordeal through which she had
passed.

With bated breath she turned and crept swiftly back to the house and up
to the long windows that opened out on the porch, sobbing bitterly to
herself that she would see at last if her lover was true or false to
her.

CHAPTER XX.

With her heart throbbing with the most intense excitement, Dorothy
pushed aside the great clusters of crimson creepers and thick green
leaves, pressed her white face close against the window-pane, a