on before she saw him coming. They caught sight of each other
almost at the same moment, and he stood up in his boat, and waved
something white in his hand, which must be a dispatch for her.

It acknowledged her telegram and reported George still improving; his
father would meet her steamer in New York. It was very reassuring, it
was every thing hopeful; but when she had read it she gave it to the
vice-consul for encouragement.

"It's all right, Miss Claxon," he said, stoutly. "Don't you be troubled
about Mr. Hinkle's not coming to meet you himself. He can't keep too
quiet for a while yet."

"Oh, yes," said Clementina, patiently.

"If you really want somebody to worry about, you can help Mr. Orson to
worry about himself!" the vice-consul went on, with the grimness he had
formerly used in speaking of Mrs. Lander. "He's sick, or he thinks he's
going to be. He sent round for me this morning, and I found him in bed.
You may have to go home alone. But I guess he's more scared than hurt."

Her heart sank, and then rose in revolt against the mere idea of delay.
"I wonder if I ought to go and see him," she said.

"Well, it would be a kindness," returned the vice-consul, with a
promptness that unmasked the apprehension he felt for the sick man.

He did not offer to go with her, and she took Maddalena. She found
the minister seated in his chair beside his bed. A three days' beard
heightened the gauntness of his face; he did not move when his padrona
announced her.

"I am not any better," he answered when she said that she was glad to
see him up. "I am merely resting; the bed is hard. I regret to say," he
added, with a sort of formal impersonality, "that I shall be unable to
accompany you home, Miss Claxon. That is, if you still think of taking
the steamer this week."

Her whole being had set homeward in a tide that already seemed to drift
the vessel from its moorings. "What--what do you mean?" she gasped.

"I didn't know," he returned, "but that in view of the
circumstances--all the circumstances--you might be intending to defer
your departure to some later steamer."

"No, no, no! I must go, now. I couldn't wait a day, an hour, a minute
after the first chance of going. You don't know what you are saying! He
might die if I told him I was not coming; and then what should I do?"
This was what Clementina said to herself; but what she said to Mr.
Orson, with an inspiration from her terror at his suggestion was, "Don't
you