first ten days of Eveline's illness; then there was a change; the violent
symptoms of disease were reduced, and a state of dreamy languor succeeded,
with rare intervals of excitement, and those of the mildest type; but
consciousness did not return, and the father had the satisfaction of
knowing that the secrets of the place were his own. He had now but little
fear that others would learn them, but this gleam of comfort was
overshadowed by the increased apprehensions that his child's sickness must
prove fatal. Indeed, hope had almost fled from his bosom, but he clung with
a death-grasp to the desire for her recovery, if for nothing else, that a
good understanding might exist between them. He could not endure the
thought of her leaving the world under a wrong impression of the _motives_
by which he had been actuated in the course he had pursued. As his long and
continued watching had worn him down, he now left the bedside frequently to
snatch a little rest, and recuperate his exhausted powers.

And where was Hadley all this time? No fond mother ever hovered about the
cradle of her sick darling with deeper solicitude, than did he about the
residence of his beloved. He made friends of the nurse and maid, and from
them and the doctor kept himself advised of her condition. Oh, how his
heart ached to be by the bedside of the sufferer! How, at times, his spirit
rebelled at the injustice of the father! But when he was told of his
devoted attention, tireless care, and deep distress, he forgave him in his
heart and blessed him for his devoted kindness to the invalid.

But where was Duffel? Let the sequel tell.




CHAPTER IV.