“Oh!” she uttered, in a dazed voice, sitting quickly erect.
“Do not be alarmed, my dear, you have fallen asleep in your chair and been dreaming. You are here in Rolfe’s home safe with his mother,” said the lady, gently.
A gleam of comprehension flashed into Viola’s eyes, and she sighed heavily:
“I remember—everything.”
“I have a bit of sad news for you, my dear.”
“Yes?” inquiringly.
The answer was a sealed letter.
Viola took it in surprise, and opened it, reading with dilated eyes:
“My Precious Wife,—I mentioned to you tonight that I had an offer to go to Cuba as a war correspondent for a newspaper, and I find it almost necessary to go to New York tonight to make the requisite arrangements for immediate departure.
“This happens very fortunately for you under the circumstances.