right eyes unclosed once and fixed themselves on him, as he
spoke her name and laid his hand on one of hers.

'Oh, Tom, Tom,' she said, 'you told me you'd kill her. Will you kill
her? Will you kill her?' And a wild, hysterical laugh echoed through the
room, as she kept repeating the words, 'Will you kill her? Will you kill
her?' which conveyed no meaning to Tom, who had forgotten what he had
said he would do if a claimant to Tracy Park should appear in the shape
of a young lady.

Whatever Jerrie took up she repeated rapidly until something else came
into her mind, and when Mrs. Crawford, referring to the bunch on her
head, said to the physician, 'Peterkin struck the blow, she says,' she
began at once like a parrot. 'Peterkin struck the blow! Peterkin struck
the blow!' until another idea suggested itself, and she began to ring
changes on the sentence. 'In the rat-hole; in the Tramp House; in the
Tramp House; in the rat-hole,' talking so fast that sometimes it was
impossible to follow her.

The blow on her head alone could not have produced this state of things;
it was rather over-excitement, added to some great mental shock, the
nature of which he could not divine, the doctor said to Tom, who in his
wrath at Peterkin was ready to flay him alive, or at least to ride him
on a rail the instant he entered town.

It was a puzzling case, though not a dangerous one as yet, the physician
said. Jerrie's strong constitution could stand an attack much more
severe than this one; and prescribing perfect quiet, with strict orders
that she should see no more people than was necessary, he left,
promising to return in the afternoon, when he hoped to find her better.
Tom lingered a while after the doctor had left, and showed himself so
thoughtful and kind that Mrs. Crawford forgave him much which she had
harbored against him for his treatment of Harold.

All night Tom's dreams had been haunted with Jerrie's voice and Jerrie's
look as she gave him her hand and said, 'Good-bye, Tom,' and he had
ridden over early to see if the look and tone were still there, and if
they were, and he had a chance, he meant to renew his offer. But words
of love would have been sadly out of place to this restless, feverish
girl, whose incoherent babblings puzzled and bewildered him.

One fact, however, was distinct in his mind--Peterkin had struck her a
terrible blow in the Tramp House. Of that he was sure, though why he
should have done so he could not g