About an hour after the occurrences at Newgate, the door of the small
back-parlour already described at Dollis Hill was opened by Winifred,
who, gliding noiselessly across the room, approached a couch, on which
was extended a sleeping female, and, gazing anxiously at her pale
careworn countenance, murmured,--"Heaven be praised! she still
slumbers--slumbers peacefully. The opiate has done its duty. Poor thing!
how beautiful she looks! but how like death!"

Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,--deathlike and deep.
Its very calmness was frightful. Her lips were apart, but no breath
seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight--very slight
palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be
extinct. This lifeless appearance was heightened by the extreme
sharpness of her features--especially the nose and chin,--and by the
emaciation of her limbs, which was painfully distinct through her
drapery. Her attenuated arms were crossed upon her breast; and her black
brows and eyelashes contrasted fearfully with the livid whiteness of her
skin. A few short, dark locks, escaping from beneath her head-dress,
showed that her hair had been removed, and had only been recently
allowed to grow again.

"Poor Mrs. Sheppard!" sighed Winifred, as she contemplated the beautiful
wreck before her,--"Poor Mrs. Sheppard! when I see her thus, and think
of all she has endured, of all she may yet have to endure, I could
almost pray for her release from trouble. I dare not reflect upon the
effect that her son's fate,--if the efforts to save him are
ineffectual,--may have upon her enfeebled frame, and still worse upon
her mind. What a mercy that the blow aimed at her by the ruffian, Wild,
though it brought her to the brink of the grave, should have restored
her to reason! Ah! she stirs."

As she said this, she drew a little aside, while Mrs. Sheppard heaved a
deep sigh, and opened her eyes, which now looked larger, blacker, and
more melancholy than ever.

"Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow.

"With your friends, dear Mrs. Sheppard," replied Winifred, advancing.

"Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling
faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself
again in that horrible asylum."

"You need never be afraid of that," returned Winifred, affectionately;
"my father will take care you never leave him more."

"Oh! how much I owe him!" said the widow,