"I thought," said Mabel, still excited and nervous, "I thought of everything I had ever done in my life—the time, the place, the objects with which each act had been surrounded, flashed before me like a living panorama."
"Mother, how did this happen?" faltered Lina, trembling from head to foot.
Mabel lifted her face, and saw how pale and troubled the young girl was.
"Sit down, darling, here at my feet, and I will tell you all. Move, Fair-Star, and let your mistress sit down."
The beautiful Italian grey-hound that had been looking so wistfully at his mistress all the morning, as if he knew all the risk she had run, drew back from his place near the embroidered stool, and allowed Lina to seat herself thereon. Then he stole back to his position, contrasting the snowy folds of her morning-dress with the pretty scarlet housings, edged with black velvet, which he always wore in chilly weather.
"Why, how you tremble! how white you are, Lina! and I was but just thinking you neglectful."
"Well, well, it was all a mistake, child; but what kept you from me so long?"
"I went out to walk."
"What, after hearing of——"