, resorting only to such as undermine the health and prepare the way
to unsuspected graves. Out of the infernal variety of the materials at
their command, they had selected a mixture which works by sustaining
perpetual fever; which gives little pain, little suffering, beyond that
of lassitude and thirst; which wastes like consumption, and yet puzzles
the physician, by betraying few or none of its ordinary symptoms. But
the disorder as yet was not incurable,--its progress would gradually
cease with the discontinuance of the venom.

Although October was far advanced, the day was as mild and warm as
August. But Percival, who had been watching Helen's countenance with
the anxiety of love and fear, now proposed that the sitting should be
adjourned. The sun was declining, and it was certainly no longer safe
for Helen to be exposed to the air without exercise. He proposed that
they should walk through the garden, and Helen, rising cheerfully,
placed her hand on his arm. But she had scarcely descended the steps of
the terrace when she stopped short and breathed hard and painfully. The
spasm was soon over, and walking slowly on, they passed Lucretia with a
brief word or two, and were soon out of sight amongst the cedars.

"Lean more on my arm, Helen," said Percival. "How strange it is that the
change of air has done so little for you, and our country doctor still
less! I should feel miserable indeed if Simmons, whom my mother always
considered very clever, did not assure me that there was no ground for
alarm,--that these symptoms were only nervous. Cheer up, Helen; sweet
love, cheer up!"

Helen raised her face and strove to smile; but the tears stood in her
eyes. "It would be hard to die now, Percival!" she said falteringly.

"To die--oh, Helen! No; we must not stay here longer,--the air is
certainly too keen for you. Perhaps your aunt will go to Italy. Why
not all go there, and seek my mother? And she will nurse you, Helen,
and--and--" He could not trust his voice farther.

Helen pressed his arm tenderly. "Forgive me, dear Percival, it is but at
moments that I feel so despondent; now, again, it is past. Ah, I so
long to see your mother! When shall you hear from her? Are you not
too sanguine? Do you really feel sure she will consent to so lowly a
choice?"

"Never doubt her affection, her appreciation of you," answered Percival,
gladly, and hoping that Helen's natural anxiety might be the latent
cause of her dejected spirit