“‘Excuse me, Demar, I must now go and see my patient; I will return presently.’
“After Lottie had slept three hours Doctor Plaxico consented for me to go into her room again.
“‘I think she will wake very soon,’ said he, ‘and you had better be present then; you must be very cautious and not exhibit any unusual emotion. Remember she is in a critical condition, and the slightest shock might prove fatal, and govern yourself accordingly. At first I thought that probably it would be better to let some one break the news of your arrival to her, before letting her see you; but upon second thought I have concluded to allow you to be present when she awakes. Place yourself near the bed, take hold of her hand, press it gently, and remain very quiet; be sure you do not make any demonstrations when you see her eyes open.’
“This was a hard command, but I made up my mind to obey it, believing, as I did, that it was wisely given. Kneeling down near the bed, I took her left hand in mine, pressing it gently to my lips, when she instantly commenced to roll her head from one side to the other.
“‘Let go her hand, quick!’ the doctor whispered.
“I obeyed instantly, but was puzzled to know his reasons for giving such an order. Plaxico stood with his finger on his mouth, which I understood to be a command for me to maintain silence. Any one might have heard the throbbing of my heart across the room, while every nerve in my body was quivering violently.
“‘Now take hold of her hand again, and be careful to remain quiet.’
“The very instant my hand touched hers she again began to tremble; raising her other hand, she commenced to pass it round, as if searching for something, while her lips were continually moving; and every now and then I distinctly heard my name pronounced. I was informed by the doctor that she was under the influence of a very strong opiate, which I suppose accounted for the apparent uneasiness of her slumber. Five minutes, perhaps, had elapsed after I took hold of her hand the second time when she touched my cheek; then running her fingers among my whiskers, she began to pat me on the face. At length her eyes flew open; and after gazing at me for a moment in a bewildered way, she laid her right arm around my neck, drew my head down on the pillow, close to her cheek, and whispered in my ear many sweet expressions of affection. There were no evidences of violent emotion or extravagant outbursts of excitement, but her voice sounded like the cooing of a dove. My face was moistened with the tears that streamed from her eyes; but they were tears of unmixed joy.
“‘I thought they had killed my noble-hearted hero,’ she whispered, as she drew her arm closer about my neck. ‘I have been very unjust to my poor brother, but I thought he and Heartsell had murdered you; and you must bring him here, so I can ask him to pardon me. I was with you and my brother on the train last night, and tried to speak to you, but could not make you hear me. Our mother was with me, and she says that she is our guardian angel, commissioned to watch over us—she was such a beautiful angel, too; I never beheld anything so pretty.’
“‘Miss Wallingford,’ said Doctor Plaxico, ‘I think it would be very imprudent for you to talk any more just now.’