"Have you any brandy in the house?" asked the traveler. "See how my wife
trembles."

Alas for the poor doctor! There was neither brandy nor wine. With an
impatient murmur, the stranger called the postilion and sent him to the
Castle arms with such an order as made Mrs. Galbraith open her eyes in
wonder. Than, without seeming to notice the doctor or his servant, he
flung himself on his knees by the lady's side, and kissed the beautiful
white face and colorless lips.

"My darling," he cried, "this is my fault. I ought not to have asked you
to undertake such a journey. Can you ever forgive me?"

She kissed him.

"You did all for the best, Hubert," she said, then adding, in a whisper:
"Do you think I shall die?"

Then the doctor thought it right to interpose.

"There is no question of death," he said; "but you must be quiet. You
must have no agitation--that would injure you."

Then he and Mrs. Galbraith led the beautiful, trembling girl to the
room which the latter had hastily prepared for her, and, when she was
installed therein, the doctor returned to the stranger, who was pacing,
with quick, impatient steps, up and down the little parlor.

"How is she?" he cried, eagerly.