"Get there as quick as you can," McGinnis told the driver, and then sat there and watched Helen until the carriage rolled up and paused before the gate of a private insane asylum.
Into this she was carried in her unconscious condition, the carriage departing as soon as she was removed from it.
To the sour-visaged dame who was encountered in the hall McGinnis handed a note.
"Brown, eh?" as she read it. "Well, the poor dear's room is ready. Right this way with her."
When she had been deposited on a bed McGinnis took his departure.
At the door he paused for a last glance at the pale face of Helen.
"Blast it!" he muttered. "It's too bad. Such a plucky critter ought to a been married to a good feller like me, who could make somethin' outen her."
An hour later Helen recovered her senses with a wild start.
Opening her eyes she saw an evil-faced hag above her, who laughed, held up a big bloody pin, and remarked:
"Pins is better'n water to bring a pusson outen a fainting fit."