In the dawn of the following day Ella began to stir uneasily in her sleep, to moan and sigh. Vaguely the unspent force of her grief was reasserting itself, as the benumbing effects of anodynes passed from her brain. Her father motioned Hannah to leave the apartment, and then took Ella's hand. At last she opened her eyes, and looked at him in a dazed, troubled way. "Oh!" she moaned, "I've had such dreadful dreams. Have I been ill?"
"Yes, Ella dear, very ill, but you are better now. The worst is well over."
"Dear papa, have you been watching all night?"
"That's a very little thing to do, Ella darling."
She lay silent for a few moments, and then began to sob, "Oh, I remember all now. He's dead, dead, dead."
"Ella," said her father gently, taking her hands from her face, "I do not believe he is dead. There is a report that he escaped—that he was picked up by a steamer."
She sat up instantly, as if all her strength had returned, and, with her blue eyes dilating through her tears, exclaimed, "Oh, papa, don't keep me on the rack of suspense! Give me life by telling me that he lives."
"Yes, Ella, he is alive. He has written to me, and I have answered in the way that you would wish."
She threw her arms about his neck in an embrace that was almost convulsive, and then sank back exhausted.
"Now, Ella darling, for all our sakes you must keep quiet and composed;" and he gave her a little of the strong nourishment which the physician had ordered.