"Anything amiss?" inquired Arthur, observing the perturbation of the man.
"Oh, no, Sir, but how glad I am that you are here, for I am afraid the news will be too much for Master, and the young lady told me to break it to him gently."
"What news, what young lady, what do you mean, John?" inquired Mr. Bernard, in a tone of bewilderment. "I do not understand to what you allude."
"Beg pardon, Sir, for not telling you before, but it has been so sudden, it quite overpowered me, to think our dear young lady, whom we thought long since buried in the sea"—
The man stopped abruptly, and turned his head, evidently too much affected to go on.
"For pity's sake, speak, John, and put an end to this suspense; what about her?"
"Oh, Sir, nothing, Sir; I mean nothing at all, to alarm you, Sir; she has come back again, Sir; she was not drowned, after all, and she is now waiting in the library. She would have come right up, but I told her how ill Master had been, and then she stopped, for she was afraid the shock might be too much for him."
Arthur heard not the conclusion of the sentence.
"She is not drowned,—she has come back again,"—was all he could think of; and with eager steps, that yet seemed all too slow for his impatient spirit, he hastened to greet the long-mourned wanderer.
He paused a moment at the door of the library, to calm the tumult of his soul, and then slowly opening it, entered the room.