"Some refreshment was brought her, of which she refused to partake. She could not even weep; her eyes seemed turned to stone. She could hear the maniac laughter of her fellow-prisoners—she could see some of the most harmless marching in gloomy file through the grounds, with their watchful body-guard.
"Poor Mary! She felt a stifled, choking sensation in her throat, as if the air she breathed were poison; and, with her nervous, excitable temperament, God knows the chance she stood to become what they really thought her! To all her eager inquiries she received only evasive answers; or else the subject was skilfully and summarily dismissed to make place for one in which she had no interest.
"Little Dr. Van Brunt daily examined her pulse and 'hoped she was improving—,' or, if she wasn't, it was his interest to issue a bulletin to that effect, and all 'company' was vetoed as 'exciting and injurious to the patient.' And so day after day, night after night, dragged its slow length along, and Percy, with the meanness of a revengeful spirit, was 'biding his time,' till the punishment should be sufficiently salutary to warrant his recalling her home. But while he was quietly waiting the accomplishment of his purpose, the friend of the weary came to her relief.
"'Leave me, please, will you?' said Mary to the nurse, as she turned her cheek to the pillow like a tired child. 'I want to be alone.'
"The old woman took her sewing and seated herself just outside the door, thinking she might wish to sleep. In a few moments she peeped cautiously through the open door. Mrs. Percy still lay there, in the same position, with her cheek nestling in the palm of her little hand.
"'She sleeps sweetly,' she muttered to herself as she resumed her work.
"Yes, dame Ursula, but it is the 'sleep' from which only the trump of the archangel shall wake her!
"Mary's secret died with her, and the remorse that is busy at the heart of Percy, is known only to his Maker."