nd prone helplessness, and
she was feeling in desperation for the bell-rope, when to her great
relief, light and steps approached, and Robert spoke. Alas! his candle
only served to show the ghastly, senseless face.

'She has starved herself!' said Phoebe, with affright.

'A swoon, don't be afraid,' said Robert, who was dressed, and had
evidently been watching. 'Try to warm her; I will fetch something for
her; we shall soon bring her round.'

'A swoon, only a swoon,' Phoebe was forced to reiterate to herself to
keep her senses and check the sobbing screams that swelled in her throat
during the hour-like moments of his absence. She rose, and partly
dressed herself in haste, then strove to chafe the limbs; but her efforts
only struck the deathly chill more deeply into her own heart.

He brought some brandy, with which they moistened her lips, but still in
vain, and Phoebe's dismay was redoubled as she saw his terror. 'It
_must_ be fainting,' he repeated, 'but I had better send for Jackson.
May God have mercy on us all--this is my fault!'

'Her lips move,' gasped Phoebe, as she rubbed the temples with the
stimulant.

'Thank God!' and again they put the spoon to her lips, as the nostrils
expanded, the eyes opened, and she seemed to crave for the cordial. But
vainly Robert raised her in his arms, and Phoebe steadied her own
trembling hand to administer it, there were only choking, sobbing efforts
for words, resulting in hoarse shrieks of anguish.

Mervyn and Miss Fennimore, entering nearly at the same moment, found
Phoebe pale as death, urging composure with a voice of despair; and
Robert with looks of horror that he could no longer control, holding up
the sinking child, her face livid, her eyes strained. 'I can't, I
can't,' she cried, with frightful catches of her breath; 'I shall die--'
and the screams recurred.

Mervyn could not bear the spectacle for an instant, and fled only to
return to listen outside. Miss Fennimore brought authority and presence
of mind. 'Hysterical,' she said. 'There, lay her down; don't try again
yet.'

'It is hunger,' whispered the trembling Phoebe; but Miss Fennimore only
signed to be obeyed, and decidedly saying, 'Be quiet, Bertha, don't
speak,' the habit of submission silenced all but the choking sobs. She
sent Robert to warm a shawl, ordered away the frightened maids, and
enforced stillness, which lasted till Bertha had recovered breath, when
she sobbed out again, 'Robert!