“Never mind me,” said he.  “Let her have every comfort the house affords, and you shall be amply paid.”

Uncle Timothy had now no objection to the offer, and the large, airy room with its snowy, draped bed was soon in readiness for the sufferer, who, in one of her wayward moods, absolutely refused to be moved.  It was in vain that Aunt Betsey plead, persuaded, and threatened, and at last in despair Durward was called in to try his powers of persuasion.

“That’s something more like it,” said ’Lena, and when he urged upon her the necessity of her removal, she asked, “Will you go with me?”

“Certainly,” said he.

“And stay with me?”

“Certainly.”

“Then I’ll go,” she continued, stretching her arms toward him as a child toward its mother.

A moment more and she was reclining on the soft downy pillows, the special pride of Mrs. Aldergrass, who bustled in and out, while her husband, ashamed of his stinginess, said “they should of moved her afore, only ’twas a bad sign.”

During the remainder of the day she seemed more quiet, talking incessantly, it is true, but never raving if Durward were near.  If is strange what power he had over her, a word from him sufficing at any time to subdue her when in her most violent fits of frenzy.  For two days and nights he watched by her side, never giving himself a moment’s rest, while the neighbors looked on, surmising and commenting as people always will.  Every delicacy of the season, however costly, was purchased for her comfort, while each morning the flowers which he knew she loved the best were freshly gathered from the different gardens of Laurel Hill, and in broken pitchers, cracked tumblers, and nicked saucers, adorned the room.

At the close of the third day she fell into a heavy slumber, and Durward, worn out and weary, retired to take the rest he so much needed.  For a long time ’Lena slept, watched by the physician, who, knowing that the crisis had arrived, waited anxiously for her waking, which came at last, bringing with it the light of returning reason.  Dreamily she gazed about the room, and in a voice no longer strong with the excitement of delirium, asked, “Where am I, and how came I here?”

In a few words the physician explained all that was necessary for her to know, and then going for Mrs. Aldergrass, told her of the favorable change in his patient, adding that a sudden shock might still prove fatal.  “Therefore,” said he, “though I know not in what relation this Mr. Bellmont stands to her, I think it advisable for her to remain awhile in ignorance of his presence.  It is of the utmost consequence that she be kept quiet for a few days, at the end of which time she can see him.”

All this Aunt Betsey communicated to Durward, who unwilling to do anything which would endanger ’Lena’s safety, kept himself aloof, treading softly and speaking low, for as if her hearing were sharpened by disease she more than once, when he was talking in the hall below, started up, listening eagerly; then, as if satisfied that she had been deceived, she would resume her position, while the flush on her cheek deepened as she thought, “Oh, what if it had indeed been he!”