Trevlyn looked at her with tender anxiety, evidently forgetful that he
had requested Miss Lee to play.

"You are wearied," he said. "Shall I call your carriage?"

"If you please, yes. Miss Lee I am sure will excuse me."

"I shall be obliged to, I suppose."

Trevlyn put Margie's shawl around her, and led her to the carriage. After
he had assisted her in, he touched lightly the hand he had just released,
and said "Good-night," his very accent a blessing.

In February Mr. Trevlyn received a severe shock. His aged wife had been
an inmate of an insane asylum almost ever since the death of her son
Hubert; and Mr. Trevlyn, though he had loved her with his whole soul,
had never seen her face in all those weary years.

Suddenly, without any premonitory symptoms, her reason returned to her,
and save that she was unmindful of the time that had elapsed during her
insanity, she was the same Caroline Trevlyn of old.

They told her cautiously of her husband's old age, for the unfortunate
woman could not realize that nearly twenty years had passed since the
loss of her mind. The first desire she expressed was to see "John," and
Mr. Trevlyn was sent for.

He came, and went into the presence of the wife from whom he had been so
long divided, alone. No one knew what passed between them. The interview
was a lengthy one, and Mr. Trevlyn came forth from it, animated by a