fall into another. This occurred several times. At length, after
finishing the remainder of the sherbet, she dropped into a deep sleep.

The sun was high in the heavens when she again awoke. A burning fever
consumed her, and delirium had fastened on her with fearful spasmodic
and excruciating pains internally. She endeavored to rise, but fainted
in so doing. She shrieked wildly for assistance, but none heeded her
cries. For hours she was thus, left alone, the pains increasing, and her
brain in a constant whirl. Again she slept, how long she knew not. When,
on awaking, she found the same attendant who had waited on her the
previous evening, standing at her bedside. She had brought food, of
which her ladyship partook slightly but eagerly, and called for tea,
which was handed her.

"Has Sir Lexicon returned," she enquired. The attendant shook her head.
"Send for him immediately, and likewise a doctor. I am in great agony."
The woman muttered something, and left her. Through the long, lonely
hours of that dark night, the wretched woman, wracked by intense pain,
with insanity steadily gaining the ascendency, tossed to and fro on her
weary bed, and when overtaxed nature did succumb to slumber, wild
dreams, and wilder fancies haunted her between sleeping and waking. She
fancied she saw at her bedside the forms of Edith, Arthur, and Ralph
Coleman. The latter she denounced as a coward and traitor, from Carlton
she hid her face, but to Edith she stretched forth her hand and implored
her to save her from the torments she was now enduring, but only meeting
with a scornful laugh, fell back upon her pillow exhausted.

This had not been quite all fancy, for the three mistresses of the
planter had stolen into her chamber to feast their cruel eyes upon the
dying agonies of their helpless victim. Towards the middle of the fourth