And thus she remained until conscious life regained its full
activity. Then the trial came.

Suddenly lifting herself from the bosom of her husband, Irene gave a
hurried glance around the well-known chamber, then turned and looked
with a strange, fearful questioning glance into his face:

"Where am I? What does this mean?"

"It means," replied Emerson, "that the dream, thank God! is over,
and that my dear wife is awake again."

He placed his arms again around her and drew her to his heart,
almost smothering her, as he did so, with kisses.

She lay passive for a little while; then, disengaging herself, she
said, faintly--

"I feel weak and bewildered; let me lie down."

She closed her eyes as Emerson placed her back on the pillow, a sad
expression covering her still pallid face. Sitting down beside her,
he took her hand and held it with a firm pressure. She did not
attempt to withdraw it. He kissed her, and a warmer flush came over
her face.

"Dear Irene!" His hand pressed tightly upon hers, and she returned
the pressure.