“Such, papa, is my intention—­my fixed determination, I should say; but I ought to add, that it is altogether for your sake, dear papa, that I make it.  Now let your mind feel tranquillity and ease; dismiss every anxiety that distresses you, papa; for you may believe your daughter, that there is no earthly sacrifice compatible with her duties as a Christian which she would not make for your recovery.  This interview is now, perhaps, as much as your state of health can bear.  Think, then, of what I have said, papa; let it console and strengthen; and then it will, I trust, help at least to bring about your recovery.  Now, permit me to withdraw.”

“Wait a moment, my child.  It is right that you should know the effect of your goodness before you go.  I feel already as if a mountain were removed from my heart—­even now I am better.  God bless you, my own dearest Lucy; you have saved your father.  Let this consideration comfort you and sustain you.  Now you may go, my love.”

When Lucy withdrew, which she did with a tottering step, she proceeded to her own chamber, which, now that the energy necessary for the struggle had abandoned her, she entered almost unconsciously, and with a feeling of rapidly-increasing weakness.  She approached the bell to ring for her maid, which she was able to do with difficulty; and having done so, she attempted to reach the sofa; but exhausted and overwrought nature gave way, and she fell just sufficiently near it to have her fall broken and her head supported by it, as she lay there apparently lifeless.  In this state Alley Mahon found her; but instead of ringing an alarm, or attempting to collect a crowd of the servants to witness a scene, and being besides a stout as well as a discreet and sensible girl, she was able to raise her up, place her on a sofa, until, by the assistance of cold water and some patience, she succeeded in restoring her to life and consciousness.

“On opening her eyes she looked about, and Alley observed that her lips were parched and dry.

“Here, my darling mistress,” said the affectionate girl, who now wept bitterly, “here, swallow a little cold water; it will moisten your lips, and do you good.”

She attempted to do so, but Ally saw that her hand trembled too much to bring the water to her own lips.  On swallowing it, it seemed to relieve her a little; she then looked up into Alley’s face, with a smile of thanks so unutterably sweet and sorrowful, that the poor girl’s tears gushed out afresh.

“Take courage, my darling mistress,” she replied; “I know that something painful has happened; but for Christ’s blessed sake, don’t look so sorrowful and broken-hearted, or you will—­”

“Alice,” said she, interrupting her, in a calm, soft voice, like low music, “open my bosom—­open my bosom, Alice; you will find a miniature there; take it out; I wish to look upon it.”

“O thin,” said the girl, as she proceeded to obey her, “happy is he that rests so near that pure and innocent and sorrowful heart; and great and good must he be that is worthy of it.”