k girl started, opened wide her eyes, threw up her arms, and
began in weird, passionate tones, as if it were a stage declamation. Oh
the lurid thought that seemed to travel from regions of bliss to the
nethermost hell; to display a boundless capacity for enjoyment, for
pleasure or pain, for tenderness and bitter, brilliant satire, a keen
knowledge of the world to the very dregs,--the dust and ashes! She
implored her lost idols to come near, and in the next breath she tossed
them from her with a mocking laugh. She had no faith in God or man, and
before her was a blank wall of despair.

Jack led him away. He took him out in the keen air of the starry winter
night, and began to talk of Hope Mills and the new projects. It was too
late afterward to call on Sylvie, so he waited until the next morning.

She was inexpressibly shocked. "Of course she would go," she made
answer; and she went that very afternoon, with her aunt for companion.

They found Mrs. Lawrence in a dreadfully disturbed and apprehensive
state. She was so weary of solitude that she welcomed them gladly, quite
forgetting this girl had insulted her by rejecting her son. In a weak,
shuffling manner she excused herself for not having accepted their
overtures before. She had been so utterly overwhelmed by the death of
Mr. Lawrence, that, in her state of nervous prostration, it had been
impossible to see any one. And now she was positive she should take the
fever. Her health was so delicate, her nerves so susceptible, and to
hear the raving of delirium,--the laughs that were quite like a
maniac,--would be sure to shatter her beyond any help. If it were not in
the dead of winter, she should go to New York at once, and stay with
Mrs. Minor until all danger of infection was over. She did not seem to
comprehend the gravity of Irene's case, though she wept over her
suffering in a soft self-pity.

"If you could be removed to our house," suggested Miss Barry, in her
gentle way, "we would take the best of care of you; and it must be
extremely wearing for you here."

"Ah, you have no idea! I never slept last night. I have heard of people
in these dreadful fevers who have left their beds when the nurse was
absent, and committed some horrible crime. I locked my door last night;
then I was afraid I might faint away alone, and Fred had to come and
stay with me. It was terrible!" and the washed-out eyes dilated with
real fear.

Martha was despatched for the doctor, who not