"Don't be so distressed, dear brother, I am sure it cannot be so bad as you think," whispered Adelaide, passing her arm around his neck and kissing him softly. "She looks bright enough, and seems to perfectly understand all that is said to her."
"Dr. Barton!" announced Pompey, throwing open the door of the parlor where they were sitting.
Mr. Dinsmore rose hastily to greet him.
"What is the matter? is anything wrong with my patient?" he asked hurriedly, looking from one to the other, and noticing the signs of unusual emotion in each face.
"Tell him, Adelaide," entreated her brother, turning away his head to hide his feelings.
Adelaide repeated her story, not without showing considerable emotion, though she did not mention the nature of their fears.
"Don't be alarmed," said the physician, cheerfully; "she is not losing her mind, as I see you both fear; it is simply a failure of memory for the time being; she has been fearfully ill, and the mind at present partakes of the weakness of the body, but I hope ere long to see them both grow strong together.
"Let me see—Miss Allison left, when? a year ago last April, I think you said, Miss Adelaide, and this is October. Ah! well, the little girl has only lost about a year and a half from her life, and it is altogether likely she will recover it; but even supposing she does not, it is no great matter after all."
Mr. Dinsmore looked unspeakably relieved, and Adelaide hardly less so.
"And this gives you one advantage, Mr. Dinsmore," continued the doctor, looking smilingly at him; "you can now go to her as soon as Miss Adelaide has cautiously broken to her the news of your arrival."