"I—I am not Marion," she said, and afterwards she wondered what had inspired the words, "but I am"—not "Ellinor," something made her change the name as he spoke—"I am Nelly."
He opened his eyes again.
"Little Nell," he said, "has she sent you down to me from heaven? My little Nell!"
And then he fell back unconscious—this time he had fainted.
She thought he was dead, but it was not so—her cries for help soon brought her friends, Mr. Raynald first of all. He did not seem startled, he soothed Ellinor at once.
"It is poor old Giles," he said. "I know all about him, he has found his way in at last."
"But—but——," stammered the girl, "there is something else, Mr. Raynald. I—I seem to remember something."
She looked nearly as white as their poor visitor, and as Mr. Raynald glanced at her, a curious expression flitted across his own face.
Could it be so? He knew all her story.
"Wait a little, my dear," he said. "We must attend to poor Giles first."