shouted, and the iron horse came on snorting and
panting; nearer, nearer it approaches the bridge. 'Tis on the bridge.
Crash--and in an instant, it is gone; the train with its living freight
is a mass of broken ruins. The screams are appalling; the sight fearful
in the extreme. The children ran back to the house trembling and awed,
and huddled together in a frightened group. Among the first to be taken
from the _debris_ was a lady, and a little girl about two years old.
Isabel offered her own room for the use of the sufferers, and some men
carried them to the cottage, where kind nurse Bruce did all in her power
until the doctor should arrive. Isabel took the beautiful child, who a
few moments before was all life and animation, and laid it upon Bruce's
bed; the poor little thing must have been killed instantly as there was
no sign of suffering upon its face, but a large bruise on its temple.
The doctor feared that the lady had received fatal injuries; all through
the night she continued insensible, and the morning brought no change.
Who she was they could not tell, but as Isabel sat watching her through
the long night, she felt that she had seen her before, but where she
could not recall. Late in the afternoon consciousness returned, and with
a feeble moan she opened her eyes. "Where am I," she asked, "Oh, where
is my little Izzie?" Isabel's only answer was a kiss. "Don't say it,"
she cried, grasping Isabel's hand convulsively, "O, not that, not that!
but I see it is so--I see it in your face without you saying so." "O, my
baby, my baby, my little Izzie!" she moaned, covering her face with her
hands; and then she lay quite still, her lips moving as if in prayer.
The doctor, who came in shortly after, called Isabel from the room.
"Miss Leicester," he said, "she will not live many hours, we had better
find out who she is and summon her friends by telegraph. We can do so by
sending to W----; I tell you candidly that she is past all human aid.
Poor thing, she need not grieve for her child, she will be with her
soon." They returned to the room to gain the desired information. "Send
for Dr. Taschereau, at H----," she replied to the doctor's question. Now
Isabel knew where and when she had seen her. But it grieved her to see
what a change there was in the bright sunny girl who had cast such a
cloud over her path at the ball at Elm Grove.

"Am I dying?" Natalie asked anxiously.

"I dare not give you false hope," the doctor repli