"Kitty?" cried Gertrude. At the sound of her voice Kitty sprung suddenly from her recumbent posture, threw herself into Gertrude's arms, laid her head upon her shoulder, and though she did not, could not weep, shook with an agitation uncontrollable. Her hand which grasped Gertrude's was cold; her eyes fixed; and at intervals the same hysterical sound which had at first betrayed her in her hiding-place alarmed her young protector, to whom she clung. Gertrude supported her to a seat, and then, folding the slight form to her bosom, chafed the cold hands, and again and again kissing the rigid lips, succeeded in restoring her to something like composure. For an hour she lay thus, receiving Gertrude's caresses with evident pleasure, and now and then returning them convulsively, but speaking no word and making no noise. Gertrude, with the truest delicacy, refrained from asking questions, or recurring to a conversation, the whole of which had been thus overheard and comprehended; but, patiently waiting until Kitty grew more calm, prepared for her a soothing draught; and then, finding her completely prostrated, both in mind and body, passed her arm around her waist, guided her upstairs, and took her into her own room, where, if she proved wakeful, she would be spared the scrutiny of Isabel. Still clinging to Gertrude, the poor girl, to whose relief tears came at last, sobbed herself to sleep. Gertrude, though nearly the same age as Kitty, had seen too much trouble to enjoy in times of disquiet the privilege of sinking easily to repose. She felt under the necessity, too, of remaining awake until Isabel's return, that she might inform her what had become of Kitty, whom she would be sure to miss from the room which they both occupied. It was past midnight when Mrs. Graham and her niece returned home, and Gertrude went immediately to inform the latter that her cousin was asleep in her room. The noise of the carriage, however, had awakened the sleeper, and when Gertrude returned she was rubbing her eyes, and trying to collect her thoughts. Suddenly the recollection of the scene of the evening flashed upon her, and with a deep sigh she exclaimed, "Oh, Gertrude, I have been dreaming of Mr. Bruce! Should you have thought he would have treated me so?"
"No, I should not," said Gertrude; "but I wouldn't dream about him, Kitty, nor think of him any more; we will both go to sleep and forget him."
"It is different with you," said Kitty, with simplicity. "He loves you, and you do not care for him; but I—I——" Here her feelings overpowered her, and she buried her face in her pillow.
Gertrude approached, laid her hand kindly upon the head of the poor girl, and finished the sentence for her.
"You have such a large heart, Kitty, that he found some place there, perhaps; but it is too good a heart to be shared by the mean and base. You must think no more of him—he is not worthy of your regard."
"I can't help it," said Kitty; "I am silly, just as he said."
"No, you are not," said Gertrude, encouragingly; "and you must prove it to him."
"How?"
"Let him see that, with all her softness, Kitty Ray is brave; that she believes not his flattery, and values his professions at just what they are worth."
"Will you help me, Gertrude? You are my best friend; you took my part, and told him how wicked he had been to me. May I come to you for comfort when I can't make believe happy any longer to him, and my aunt, and Isabel?"