She was still debating this question in her mind, when her heart almost flew into her mouth at the sound of a man's step approaching on the gravel walk. It drew nearer, nearer, came close to her side, and with a cry of terror she fell in a little heap on the doorstep in a dead faint.
He uttered a low exclamation of astonishment, stooped over her, and pushing aside her veil so that the moonlight shone full upon her face, "Zoe!" he said, "is it possible! What can have brought you here at this hour of the night?"
He paused for an answer, but none came; then bending lower and perceiving that she was quite unconscious, also fast, he took a key from his pocket and opened the door.
He bent over her again, taking note of her dress and the travelling bag by her side.
"Running away, evidently! could any one have conceived the possibility of her doing so crazy a thing!" he muttered, as he took her in his arms.
Then a dark thought crossed his mind, but he put it determinately from him.
"No; I will not, cannot think it! She is pure, guileless, and innocent as an infant."
He stooped again, picked up the bag, closed the door softly, and carried her up-stairs—treading with caution lest a stumble or the sound of his footsteps should arouse some one and lead to the discovery of what was going on; yet with as great celerity as consistent with that caution, fearing consciousness might return too soon for the preservation of the secrecy he desired.
But it did not; she was still insensible when he laid her down on a couch in her boudoir.
He took off her hat and veil, threw them aside, loosened her dress, opened a window to give her air, then went into the dressing-room for the night lamp usually kept burning there.