but for Thelma.

"Spare her, good Lord!" she would implore in the hyperbolical language
she had drawn from her study of the Scriptures--"As the lily among
thorns, so is she among the daughters! Cut her not off root and branch
from the land of the living, for her countenance is comely, and as a
bunch of myrrh which hath a powerful sweetness, even so must she surely
be to the heart of her husband! Stretch forth Thy right hand, O Lord,
and scatter healing, for the gates of death shall not prevail against
Thy power!"

Day after day she poured out petitions such as these, and with the
dogged persistency of a soldier serving Cromwell, believed that they
would be granted,--though day after day Thelma seemed to grow weaker and
weaker. She was still light-headed--her face grew thin and shadowy,--her
hands were almost transparent in their whiteness and delicacy, and her
voice was so faint as to be nearly in-audible. Sometimes Ulrika got
frightened at her appearance, and heartily wished for medical assistance
but this was not to be had. Therefore she was compelled to rely on the
efficacy of one simple remedy,--a herbal drink to allay fever,--the
virtues of which she had been taught in her youth,--this, and the
healing mercies of mother Nature together with the reserved strength of
her own constitution, were the threads on which Thelma's life hung.

Time passed on--and yet there was no news from Sir Philip. One night,
sitting beside her exhausted patient, Ulrika fancied she saw a change on
the wan face--a softer, more, peaceful look than had been there for many
days. Half in fear, half in hope, she watched,--Thelma seemed to
sleep,--but presently her large blue eyes opened with a calm yet
wondering expression in their clear depths. She turned slightly on her
pillows, and smiled faintly.

"Have I been ill?" she asked.

"Yes, my dear," returned Ulrika softly, overjoyed, yet afraid at the
girl's returning intelligence. "Very ill. But you feel better now, don't
you?"

Thelma sighed, and raising her little wasted hand, examined it
curiously. Her wedding and betrothal rings were so loose on her finger
that they would have fallen off had they been held downwards. She seemed
surprised at this, but made no remark. For some time she remained quiet,
steadfastly gazing at Ulrika, and evidently trying to make out who she
was. Presently she spoke again.

"I remember everything now," she said, slowly. "I am at home, at the
Altenfjord--an