in. After the slight scream which had
brought him to her side, Mary uttered no sound, and with his whole soul
concentrated on action, he had been equally silent till the last spark
was smothered. Then gazing wildly in her pallid face he exclaimed, "In
mercy speak to me! Did I come too late? Are you burned?"

"I scarcely know--I think not," she faltered out. Then, as she made an
effort to withdraw from his arms, added quickly--"no--not at all."

Completely overpowered by the revulsion of feeling which those words
occasioned, Herbert clasped her again in his arms, and fervently
ejaculating, "Thank God!" pressed his lips to her cheek. At that moment,
the voice of Mr. Cavendish was heard in the next room, and breaking from
him, Mary rushed to her astonished father, and burying her face in his
bosom, burst into tears. Aroused to full consciousness by the presence
of another, Herbert stood trembling and dismayed at the remembrance of
his own rashness. Agitated as she was, Mary was compelled to answer her
father's questions, for he seemed wholly unable to speak.

"Latimer, I owe my child's life probably to you. How shall I repay the
debt?" cried Mr. Cavendish, attempting, as he spoke, to clasp Herbert's
hand. He winced at the touch, and a sudden contraction passed over his
face.

"You are burned," said Mr. Cavendish, and would have examined his hand,
but throwing his handkerchief over it, Herbert declared it was not worth
mentioning, though at the same time he confessed that the pain was
sufficient to make him desirous to return home, and have some soothing
application made to it. Mr. Cavendish parted from him with regret, with
earnest charges that he should take care of himself, and equally earnest
hopes that he might be sufficiently relieved to return to them before
the evening was passed; but Mary still lay in her father's arms, with
her face hidden, and noticed Herbert's departure neither by word nor
look.

"I have outraged her delicacy, and she cannot bear even to see me," he
said to himself.

In passing out he accidentally trod on the flowers which he had selected
with such care--"Crushed like my own heart!" he ejaculated mentally.

A fortnight passed before Herbert Latimer could take his accustomed
place in the office of Mr. Cavendish. His hand had been deeply
burned--so deeply that the pain had produced fever. During this period
of suffering, Mr. Cavendish had often visited him, and Mrs. Cavendish
had more than