asked Paul, in alarm and anxiety, as he ran
up stairs, preceded by Alice.

"Oh, I don't know!" answered Alice, but thought to herself: "It could
not have been what I said to her, and if it was, I must not tell."

The details of sickness are never interesting. I shall not dwell upon
Miriam's illness of several weeks; the doctors pronounced it to be
_angina pectoris_--a fearful and often fatal complaint, brought on in
those constitutionally predisposed to it, by any sudden shock to mind or
body. What could have caused its attack upon Miriam, they could not
imagine. And Alice Murray, in fear and doubt, held her tongue and kept
her own counsel. In all her illness, Miriam's reason was not for a
moment clouded--it seemed preternaturally awake; but she spoke not, and
it was observed that if Mr. Willcoxen, who was overwhelmed with distress
by her dreadful illness, approached her bedside and touched her person,
she instantly fell into spasms. In grief and dismay, Thurston's eyes
asked of all around an explanation of this strange and painful
phenomenon; but none could tell him, except the doctor, who pronounced
it the natural effect of the excessive nervous irritability attending
her disease, and urged Mr. Willcoxen to keep away from her chamber. And
Thurston sadly complied.

Youth, and an elastic constitution, prevailed over disease, and Miriam
was raised from the bed of death; but so changed in person and in
manner, that you would scarcely have recognized her. She was thinner,
but not paler--an intense consuming fire burned in and out upon her
cheek, and smouldered and flashed from her eye. Self-concentrated and
reserved, she replied not at all, or only in monosyllables, to the words
addressed to her, and withdrew more into herself.

At length, Dr. Douglass advised their return home. And therefore they
set out, and upon the last of March, approached Dell-Delight.

The sky was overcast, the ground was covered with snow, the weather was
damp, and very cold for the last of March. As evening drew on, and the
leaden sky lowered, and the chill damp penetrated the comfortable
carriage in which they traveled, Mr. Willcoxen redoubled his attentions
to Miriam, carefully wrapping her cloak and furs about her, and letting
down the leathern blinds and the damask hangings, to exclude the cold;
but Miriam shrank from his touch, and shivered more than before, and
drew closely into her own corner.

"Poor child, the cold nips and shrivels