Mildred ran to her door, and rushing in without the ceremony of knocking, found the poor governess stretched, apparently lifeless, upon the floor, the newspaper lying by her side.
Mildred's eye, as she stooped over the prostrate form, was caught by a paragraph that was heavily marked.
But the present was no time to examine it, and pushing the paper aside, she hastened to loosen the clothing of the fainting woman, at the same time giving directions to the two or three servants who had been attracted by the noise of the fall, and followed her into the room.
"Throw up that window, Minerva! Some cold water, Fanny, quick, quick! And you, Rachel, run to my room for my smelling salts."
"O, Miss Milly, is she done gone dead?" asked Fanny fearfully, as she sprinkled the water upon the still, white face.
"No, no; it's only a bad faint," Mildred answered, but her own heart quaked with fear as she spoke; the pinched features were so deathlike in their fixedness and pallor.
And spite of every effort they remained so till, nearly wild with terror, Mildred bade the servants summon other assistance.
"Call Mrs. Brown," she said. "Ask aunt if we shall not send for the doctor."
They hurried away to do her bidding, while she renewed her exertions, sending up silent, importunate petitions the while to her heavenly Friend.
They were answered; Miss Worth sighed deeply, opened her eyes and lifted them to the young face bent over her, with a look of such hopeless, heart-breaking anguish, that the girl burst into sobs and tears.