Repressing the scream which came near escaping her lips, ’Lena answered, “Yes; what do you want?” while at the same moment she recognized a little hunch back belonging to General Fontaine.

“Marster Everett tell me to fotch you this, and wait for the answer,” said the boy, passing her a tiny note.

“Master Everett!  Is he here?” she exclaimed, catching the note and re-entering the house, where by the light of the hall lamp she read what he had written.

It was very short, but it told all—­how he had written again and again, receiving no answer, and was about coming himself when a severe illness prevented.  The marriage, he said, was that of his uncle, for whom he was named, and who had in truth gone on to Washington, the home of his second wife.  It closed by asking tier to meet him, with Anna, on one of the arbor bridges at midnight.  Hastily tearing a blank leaf from a book which chanced to be lying in the hall, ’Lena wrote, “We will be there,” and giving it to the negro, bade him hasten back.

There was no longer need to wait for Durward, who, if he got no letter, was not to call, and trembling in every nerve, ’Lena sought her chamber, there to consider what she was next to do.  For some time past Carrie had occupied a separate room from Anna, who, she said disturbed her with her late hours and restless turnings, so ’Lena’s part seemed comparatively easy.  Waiting until the house was still, she entered Anna’s room, finding her, as she had expected, at her old place by the open window, her head resting upon the sill, and when she approached nearer, she saw that she was asleep.

“Let her sleep yet awhile,” said she; “it will do her good.”

In the room adjoining lay the bridal dress, and ’Lena’s first impulse was to trample it under her feet, but passing it with a shudder, she hastily collected whatever she thought Anna would most need.  These she placed in a small-sized trunk, and then knowing it was done, she approached her cousin, who seemed to be dreaming, for she murmured the name of “Malcolm.”

“He is here, love—­he has come to save you,” she whispered, while Anna, only partially aroused, gazed at her so vacantly, that ’Lena’s heart stood still with fear lest the poor girl’s reason were wholly gone.  “Anna, Anna,” she said, “awake; Malcolm is here—­in the garden, where you must meet him—­come.”

“Malcolm is married,” said Anna, in a whisper—­married—­and my bridal dress is in there, all looped with flowers; would you like to see it?”

“Our Father in heaven help me,” cried ’Lena, clasping her hands in anguish, while her tears fell like rain on Anna’s upturned face.