But her strong arm had anticipated her father's. She caught him,
lifted him to the bed, on which he lay henceforth for many days
unconscious. Then fever supervened, and delirium, and Dr. Duchesne
telegraphed for his friends; but at the end of a week and the
opening of a summer day the storm passed, as the other storm had
passed, and he awoke, enfeebled, but at peace. Bessy was at his
side--he was glad to see--alone.

"Bessy, dear," he said hesitatingly, "when I am stronger I have
something to tell you."

"I know it all, Jem," she said with a trembling lip; "I heard it
all--no, not from THEM, but from your own lips in your delirium.
I'm glad it came from YOU--even then."

"Do you forgive me, Bessy?"

She pressed her lips to his forehead and said hastily, and then
falteringly, as if afraid of her impulse:--

"Yes. Yes."

"And you will still be mother to the child?"

"HER child?"

"No dear, not hers, but MINE!"

She started, cried a little, and then putting her arms around him,