Still, it was deemed advisable, for the present, to keep her in
ignorance of her hero's arrival on the scene. After some discussion on the subject, _i.e._, when her medical attendant
pronounced her out of all danger, it was generally agreed upon that
considering the great confidence which had always existed between Mr.
Oldstone and the daughter of our host, that he should be the man
entrusted to break the joyful news to the patient. Our antiquary accordingly bent him to the task; so mounting the
staircase, he tapped at the patient's door. On entering the chamber, he
was greeted by a beaming smile from its fair occupant. "Why! my pretty pet!" cried the old man, cheerily, "what a time it seems
since I saw you last! Why! you _are_ pulled down, poor dear." "Am I?" answered Helen. "I am feeling much better now, though; and I am
getting tired of lying in bed all day. I feel quite well now, and want
to get up." "Don't do anything without Dr. Bleedem's permission," remonstrated
Oldstone, "or you may throw yourself back, and then what should we all
do without you?" "Yes, Dr. Bleedem says I have been most seriously ill--that he has just
rescued me from the jaws of death." "Ah!" remarked the antiquary with a quiet smile, "and someone else
rescued you quite lately from something very like the jaws of
death--only worse," he added, in a low tone. "Oh!" she cried, covering her face with her hands, as if to shut out
some horrible vision; "don't mention those two villainous men, or I
shall go mad." "No, no; we won't mention them again. They have gone to their account at
last--and--there, there, let us not judge, but try to forgive, as we
ourselves would wish to be forgiven," said Oldstone. "But what harm had I done them? Why should they--I mean, what did they
want to do to me?" asked the girl, ingenuously. "_Do_ to you, silly child! He! he! What all wicked men seek to do when
they get the chance," replied her friend. "Let us not talk of them, but
rather of the brave man who rescued you in the very nick of time from a
living death." "I understand nothing of their object, and I can't get anyone to explain
to me; but I want to know more of the brave man who, at the risk of his
own life, came to my assistance." "Perhaps I can tell you something of _him_, too," said Oldstone,
mysteriously. "Did you note him well?" "Not I. How could I? I was half fainting when he carried me into the
hall. Besides, he was so muffled up in a cloak and hat that I was unable
to see his face." "True; neither could any of us--he was so successfully disguised. But we
have discovered since who he was, for all that." "Then you have seen him--spoken to him? Please convey him my most
sincere thanks and blessings for his heroic conduct towards a perfect
stranger." "Perhaps you would like to thank him yourself--some day--when you are
able to get up, and feel quite well again," suggested Oldstone. "I suppose I ought," replied Helen. "I feel most grateful to him, I am
sure; for don't I owe him my life? But I am so shy with
strangers--and--and I don't know what to say," pleaded the girl. Then,
at length, "Tell me what manner of man he is?" "Oh! he's a gentleman," replied Oldstone; "you may depend upon
that--and, what is more, he's young, and, _I_ think, very good-looking. I am sure you would say so, too." Here a knowing look came into the antiquary's face, which puzzled the
patient, who, with eyes and mouth wide open, appeared to scan his
countenance as if to read the very secrets of his soul. Then, like a
Pythoness of old, suddenly inspired, she exclaimed, "I have it! In vain
you try to keep it from me. Mr. McGuilp has returned. It was _he_----"

Oldstone marvelled at her penetration, but replied only by a succession
of little nods of his head, fixing his eyes steadily, yet laughingly,
upon her the while. "I knew it; I knew it!" she exclaimed. "My dreams confirmed it. Oh, God
be praised," and she clasped her hands in ecstasy. "Calm yourself; calm yourself, my sweet one," began Oldstone, now
seriously alarmed lest the patient should suffer a relapse, "What would
Dr. Bleedem say to me if he knew I had been so precipitate?" "Dr. Bleedem! Does _he_ then know of our----?" "Oh! I never said anything to him about it, you may be sure. What I mean
is--he wishes you to be spared all emotion, lest you should throw
yourself back, and all his care be in vain." "Oh! no fear of that," replied Helen. "I feel so much better since you
told me. Stay!--if you have seen him, he is here. Perhaps in this very
inn--tell me!" "Well, not very far off, I dare say," said Oldstone, cautiously. "Mr. Oldstone!" cried the girl, "you can hide nothing from me. I _know_
he is here, and I _insist_ upon seeing him." "My dear! my dear! How can you? Just think! You must wait till you are
well enough to get up," protested her friend and counsellor. "Dr.
Bleedem will decide all that." "I want to see him _now_, _this instant_." "What! In your bedroom!" exclaimed Oldstone. "My dear child! It's not
proper." "Then why do you come yourself, and Dr. Bleedem?" "That is a very different matter? I am an old man, and Dr. Bleedem is
your medical attendant," replied the antiquary. "Mr. McGuilp is
young--and people _might_ talk." "Nonsense! If you don't let me see him, I'll make myself ill and die,"
exclaimed the patient, petulantly. The antiquary began to be alarmed, but tried to pacify her by saying he
would see Dr. Bleedem, and consult with him as to what were best to be
done. As he did so, the doctor mounted the stairs. He came to administer a
cordial. "She seems much better now, doctor," remarked Mr. Oldstone. Here a muttered consultation took place just outside the patient's door. After which the physician entered the sick-room, and finding his
patient's nerves somewhat excited, administered a calm soothing dose
which sent her off into a peaceful sleep, while our antiquary sought his
young protégé, and explained that, owing to the patient having taken a
composing draught, the doctor's advice was, that he had better postpone
his visit till the morrow. Our artist's disappointment at being refused an interview with his
_inamorata_ after so long an absence may be imagined, but he was
consoled in a measure by the doctor's promise that she would be well
enough to see him on the following day. On one thing he had thoroughly
made up his mind, and that was to ask her in marriage of her father. He
had never ceased to love her all the time he had been absent, but up to
the present he had no position to offer her. Were she to marry one of
the many country bumpkins who flocked around her, it would be affluence
to what he could have offered her. He could not afford to have
quarrelled with his only relative. The consequences would have been
fatal. Now everything had changed. He was rich, and could afford to
please himself. Therefore on the morrow he was resolved to speak to her
father.