near
the coast. They thought it likely that you were a stranger to that part
of the country. And in the hurry and agitation of the moment, they could
devise nothing better than to put you in the boat, and bring you on
board this vessel. That is the way you came here."

The grateful gaze of Marian thanked the lady, and she asked:

"Tell me the name of my angel nurse."

"Rachel Holmes," answered the lady, blushing gently. "My husband is a
surgeon in the United States army. He is on leave of absence now for the
purpose of taking me home to see my father and mother--they live in
London. I am of English parentage."

Marian feebly pressed her hand, and then said:

"You are very good to ask me no questions, and I thank you with all my
heart; for, dear lady, I can tell you nothing."

The next day the vessel which had put into New York Harbor on call,
sailed for Liverpool.

Marian slowly improved. Her purposes were not very clear or strong
yet--mental and physical suffering and exhaustion had temporarily
weakened and obscured her mind. Her one strong impulse was to escape, to
get away from the scenes of such painful associations and memories, and
to go home, to take refuge in her own native land. The thought of
returning to Maryland, to meet the astonishment, the wonder, the
conjectures, the inquiries, and perhaps the legal investigation that
might lead to the exposure and punishment of Thurston, was insupportable
to her heart. No, no! rather let the width of the ocean divide her from
all those horrors. Undoubtedly her friends believed her dead--let it be
so--let her remain as dead to them. She should leave no kindred behind
her, to suffer by her loss--should wrong no human being. True, there
were Miriam and Edith! But that her heart was exhausted by its one
great, all-consuming grief, it must have bled for them! Yet they had
already suffered all they could possibly suffer from the supposition of
her death--it was now three weeks since they had reason to believe her
dead, and doubtless kind Nature had already nursed them into resignation
and calmness, that would in time become cheerfulness. If she should go
back, there would be the shock, the amazement, the questions, the
prosecutions, perhaps the conviction, and the sentence, and the horrors
of a state prison for one the least hair of whose head she could not
willingly hurt; and then her own early death, or should she survive, her
blighted life. Could these consequences