What happened during the hour of the old lady’s absence from the drawing room no one knew, but when she returned she found her granddaughter in a swoon on the carpet.  In great alarm she called the servants to her assistance.  The unconscious girl was laid upon a sofa, and all means were taken to restore her to her senses.  Corona recovered her faculties only to fall into the most violent paroxysms of anguish and despair.

From her ravings and self-reproaches Mrs. Rockharrt gathered that the unfortunate girl had heard, or in some way learned, some fatal news.

She sent all the servants out of the room, locked the door, administered a sedative to her child, and then, when the latter was somewhat calmer, questioned her as to the cause of her distress.

“I have nothing to tell—­nothing, nothing to tell!  But take me away from this place!  Take me home to Rockhold, where I may be alone!”

“I will do all I can to comfort you, my dear,” said Mrs. Rockharrt.  “I will speak to Mr. Rockharrt when he comes in.”

No one but the snubbed, brow-beaten and humiliated wife knew all that she engaged to suffer when she promised to speak to her lord and master.

Corona, soothed by the sedative that had been given her, and consoled by the love and sympathy that had been lavished upon her, grew more composed, and finally fell into a deep sleep from which she awoke refreshed.  But a rumor went through the house that the young lady had got news which she did not choose to communicate.

Later in the day Mrs. Rockharrt deferentially proposed to the domestic despot that they should return to Rockhold, as the weather was so oppressive and the town house was so obnoxious to dear Corona, which was quite natural under the trying circumstances.

Aaron Rockharrt glared at her until she cowered, and then he told her that he should direct the movements of his family as he thought proper, and that any suggestions from her or from his granddaughter were both unnecessary and impertinent.

So they both had to bend under the iron will of Aaron Rockharrt.

At length, however, something happened to relieve them.

Mr. Rockharrt had not been neglecting his own business, while looking after the missing governor-elect, nor had he been leaving it to his sons and partners, whom he refused to trust.  He had been corresponding with his chief manager, Ryland.  This correspondence had not been entirely satisfactory, so at length he wrote to Ryland to come to the city for a business talk.  It was about the middle of August that the manager arrived and was closeted with his chief.  After two hours’ discussion of business matters, which ended satisfactorily, the manager, rising to leave the study, observed: 

“This is a bad job about the governor, sir!”

“I do not wish to talk of this matter,” said Mr. Rockharrt.

“Very well, sir, I am dumb,” replied the manager, taking up his hat to leave the house.