Ellen recover, by a strong effort, her self-possession, he said--

"It is too late for you to go home alone, Ellen, and as we cannot
ask you, under the circumstances, to stay all night, I will go with
you."

Ellen looked her gratitude, for she was really afraid to go into the
street alone at that late hour. As they walked along, Mr. Condy, by
many questions, ascertained that Ellen had been almost compelled to
work day and night to make up mourning garments for his family, and
to absent herself from her sick sister, while she needed her most
careful attention. Arrived at her humble dwelling, his benevolent
feelings prompted him to ascertain truly the condition of Margaret,
for his heart misgave him that her end was very nigh.

On entering the chamber, they found Mrs. Ryland, the neighbour who
lived below, supporting Margaret in the bed, who was gasping for
breath as if every moment in fear of suffocation. Ellen sprung
forward with a sudden exclamation, and, taking Mrs. Ryland's place,
let the head of her sister fall gently upon her bosom. Mr. Condy
looked on for a moment, and then hastily retired. As soon as he
reached home, he despatched a servant for the family physician, with
a special request to have him visit Ellen's sister immediately. He
then went into his wife's chamber, where the daughters, with their
mother, were engaged in looking over their new morning apparel.

"I'm afraid," said he, "that you have unintentionally been guilty of
a great wrong."

"How?" asked Mrs. Condy, looking up with sudden surprise.