and had devoted her time to superintending the dinner her husband had ordered, came in answer to his call for assistance, and found Ellinor lying back in her chair white and senseless.
“Bessy, Miss Wilkins has fainted; she has had a long journey, and is in a fidget about Dixon, the old fellow who was sentenced to be hung for that murder, you know. I can’t stop here, I must go back to those men. You bring her round, and see her to bed. The blue room is empty since Horner left. She must stop here, and I’ll see her in the morning. Take care of her, and keep her mind as easy as you can, will you, for she can do no good by fidgeting.”
And, knowing that he left Ellinor in good hands, and with plenty of assistance about her, he returned to his friends.
Ellinor came to herself before long.
“It was very foolish of me, but I could not help it,” said she, apologetically.
“No; to be sure not, dear. Here, drink this; it is some of Mr. Johnson’s best port wine that he has sent out on purpose for you. Or would you rather have some white soup—or what? We’ve had everything you could think of for dinner, and you’ve only to ask and have. And then you must go to bed, my dear—Mr. Johnson says you must; and
