Oh, horror--horror! would that I were dead!" Charles staggered back a pace or two until he came to the table, at which he clutched for support.

He turned very pale as he said, in a faint voice,-- "Is--is she mad, or am I ?" "Tell him I am mad, Henry," cried Flora.

"Do not, oh, do not make his lonely thoughts terrible with more than that.

Tell him I am mad." "Come with me," whispered Henry to Holland.

"I pray you come with me at once, and you shall know all." "I--will." "George, stay with Flora for a time.