London for a physician and a nurse. They were not long in coming; by
that time the whole village was in a state of excitement and
consternation.

"She will recover, I have every reason to believe," said the doctor,
"but she has evidently suffered long and terribly. Some domestic
trouble, my lord, I suppose, that has preyed upon her?"

"Yes," replied Lord Atherton, "a domestic trouble that she has been
foolish enough to keep to herself and which had preyed on her mind."

She had the best of care, the kindest and most constant attention, yet
it was some time before she opened her eyes to the ordinary affairs of
this life.

Lord Atherton never forgot the hour--he was sitting by her bedside. He
had barely left her since her illness began, and suddenly he heard the
sound of a low, faint sigh.

He looked eagerly into the worn, sweet face--once more the light of
reason shone in those lovely eyes.

"Marion," he said, gently.

She gave one half-frightened glance at him, then buried her face in her
hands with a moan.

"My sweet wife," he said, "do not be afraid. I know all about it,
darling. I have made that villain destroy those letters. You need fear
no more."