Here, drink this, I am certain it will complete the cure." The girl--she was nothing but a girl--drank it off and sat upright like one inspired with new life.

As she set down the glass, she lifted her dark, solemn, beautiful eyes to his face with a long, searching gaze.
"What is your name ?" she simply asked.
"Ormiston, madame," he said, bowing low.
"You have saved my life, have you not ?" "It was the Earl of Rochester who reserved you from the river; but I would have done it a moment later." "I do not mean that.

I mean"-- with a slight shudder--"are you not one of those I saw at the plague-pit?
Oh! that dreadful, dreadful plague-pit!" she cried, covering her face with her hands.
"Yes.

I am one of those." "And who was the other ?" "My friend, Sir Norman Kingsley.
"Sir Norman Kingsley ?" she softly repeated, with a sort of recognition in her voice and eyes, while a faint roseate glow rose softly over her face and neck.

"Ah! I thought--was it to his house or yours I was brought ?" "To his," replied Ormiston, looking at her curiously; for he had seen that rosy glow, and was extremely puzzled thereby; "from whence, allow me to add, you took your departure rather unceremoniously." "Did I ?" she said, in a bewildered sort of way.