“De good Lord up dar, He hars,” replied Chloe, reverently pointing upward; and she went on with the vehement repetition.  These supplications were often varied with Methodist hymns and negro melodies, of which the most common refrain was, “O glory! glory! glory!” But whether singing or praying, she made it a point to hold the invalid’s hand and look into her eyes.  For a long while, the spirit that had gone somewhere showed no signs of returning, in obedience to the persevering summons.  But after several weeks had elapsed, there was a blind groping for Chloe’s hand; and when it was found, Tulee thought she perceived something like a little flickering gleam flit over the pale face.  Still, neither of the nurses was recognized; and no one ever knew what the absent soul was seeing and hearing in that mysterious somewhere whither it had flown.  At last, Chloe’s patient faith was rewarded by a feeble pressure of her hand.  Their watchfulness grew more excited; and never did mother welcome the first gleam of intelligence in her babe with more thrilling joy, than the first faint, quivering smile on Rosa’s lips was welcomed by those anxious, faithful friends.  The eyes began to resume their natural expression.  The fog was evidently clearing away from the soul, and the sunshine was gleaming through.  The process of resuscitation was thenceforth constant, though very slow.  It was three months after those cruel blows fell upon her loving heart before she spoke and feebly called them by their names.  And not until a month later was she able to write a few lines to quiet the anxiety of Madame and the Signor.

A few days before her last ghostly visit to Magnolia Lawn, she had written them a very joyful letter, telling them of Gerald’s preparations to acknowledge her as his wife, and make her the mistress of his beautiful home.  They received the tidings with great joy, and answered with hearty congratulations.  The Signor was impatient to write to Mr. King; but Madame, who had learned precaution and management by the trials and disappointments of a changing life, thought it best to wait till they could inform him of the actual fact.  As Rosa had never been in the habit of writing oftener than once in four or five weeks, they felt no uneasiness until after that time had elapsed; and even then they said to each other, “She delays writing, as we do, until everything is arranged.”  But when seven or eight weeks had passed, Madame wrote again, requesting an immediate answer.  Owing to the peculiar position of the sisters, letters to them had always been sent under cover to Mr. Fitzgerald; and when this letter arrived, he was naturally curious to ascertain whether Madame was aware of his marriage.  It so happened that it had not been announced in the only paper taken by the Signor; and as they lived in a little foreign world of their own, they remained in ignorance of it.  Having read the letter, Mr. Fitzgerald thought, as Rosa was not in a condition to read it, it had better