I'll not keep it on me--I'll tear it off--off!" Her paroxysm had now risen to a degree of fury that fell little, if anything, short of insanity--temporary insanity it certainly was.
She tore her beautiful hair from her head in handfuls, and would have proceeded to still greater lengths, when she was seized by some of those present, in order to restrain her violence.

On finding that she was held fast, she looked at them with blazing eyes, and struggled to set herself free; but on finding her efforts vain, she panted deeply three or four times, threw back her head, and fell into a fit that, from its violence, resembled epilepsy.

After a lapse of ten minutes or so, the spasmodic action, having probably wasted her physical strength, ceased, and she lay in a quiet trance; so quiet, indeed, that it might have passed for death, were it not for the deep expression of pain and suffering which lay upon her face, and betrayed the fury of the moral tempest which swept through her heart and brain.

All the mother's grief now was hushed--all the faculties of her soul were now concentrated on her daughter, and absorbed by the intense anxiety she felt for her recovery.
She sat behind the poor girl, and drew her body back so that her head rested on her bosom, to which she pressed her, kissing her passive lips with streaming eyes.
"O, darling Nannie!" she exclaimed, "strive and rouse yourself; it is your loving mother that asks you.

Waken up, poor misled and heart-broken girl, waken up; I forgive you all your errors.