The young servant whose loquacious tongue Gerald did not dare to trust was not asleep when he brought Emilia home. She was in bed, it was true, but wide-awake, with a candle alight at her bedside. It was against the rules of the house, but she did not care for that, being deeply engrossed in a thrilling story which set rules at defiance and drove sleep away. She heard the street-door opened and closed, then a murmur of voices, like the distant murmur of the sea, and then the second opening and closing of the street-door. The sounds did not arouse her curiosity, she was so profoundly interested in the fate of the hero and heroine that nothing short of a miracle could have diverted her attention. So she read on with eager eyes and panting bosom, long after Gerald had left the house, and would have continued to read, had she not come to those tantalizing words, "To be continued in our next." Then, with a long-drawn sigh, she turned in her bed--and forgot to blow out the candle.

Emilia had intended not to sleep; she would keep awake all the night, and wait for Gerald in the morning--the morning of the day which was to be for her the herald of a new and happier life. She bore Mrs. Seaton no malice for the indignities she had suffered in her house. There was no room in Emilia's heart for anything but love. With what heartfelt gratitude did she dwell upon the image of Gerald, the noblest man on earth. "I thank God for him," she sighed. "Dear Lord, I thank Thee that Thou hast given me the love of a man like Gerald. My Gerald! Is it true? Can it be real? Ah, yes; I see his dear eyes looking into mine; his dear voice sinks into my heart. Make me grateful for the happiness before me!" It stretched out into the future years, a vista of peace and love and joy. Insensibly she sank upon her knees and prayed, and when she rose the room, the world, and all that it contained, were transfigured. How fair, how sweet was life! She had prayed for Gerald and for herself, had prayed that she might prove worthy of him, and might be endowed with power to brighten his days. Then she sat before the fire, and clasping her knee with her hands, imagined bright pictures in the glowing points of lights. She felt herself sinking to sleep. "I will just close my eyes for a few minutes," she thought. There were warm rugs about the room. Loosening her dress, she threw herself upon the couch, and covering herself with the rugs, fell asleep with joy in her heart and a smile on her lips.

At half-past three in the morning Gerald, after an absence of half an hour or so, was returning to the street in which his house was situated, when he saw an angry glare in the sky, and heard sounds of confusion in the near distance. Almost instantly A fire-engine raced past him. He hastened after it, partly from instinct, but chiefly because it was going in his direction. He had, however, no idea that the danger personally concerned him. Long before he reached his street he was undeceived. Crowds of people encompassed him, and he found it difficult to proceed. Three or four fire-engines were at work; firemen were risking their lives in the enthusiasm of their noble work; policemen were keeping back the excited lookers-on.

"My God!" he cried, as he turned the corner; "it is my house, and Emilia is there!"

Frantically he strove to force his way through the crowd, which would not give way for him at first, but he redoubled his efforts, and running under or leaping over firemen, policemen, and the men and women who were surging round, he tore off his coat, and rushed toward the burning building. He was pulled back, and escaping from those who held him, darted forward again with despairing cries, and was caught in the arms of one who knew him.

"It's all right," cried this man to the firemen. "Mr. Paget has escaped from the house."

He who spoke thought that Gerald, instead of striving to enter the house, had just emerged from it, and his idea was strengthened by the circumstance that Gerald was in his shirt sleeves. One in authority came up to Gerald and said:

"We were getting frightened about you, sir. We got out a young lady and your two servants----"

"A young lady!" gasped Gerald, and inwardly thanked God that Emilia was saved.

"Yes, sir. There's some mystery about her, because your housekeeper said there was no young lady there, but out she came, or was carried, insensible----"

"For God's sake," cried Gerald, "don't tell me she is injured!"

"I think not, sir; but she was in an insensible condition, and some people took her away. Your housekeeper said you were the only one left. Now that we know no lives are lost we can get on with our work. Your house is a wreck, sir; there'll be very little saved out of it."

"Where was the young lady taken to?" asked Gerald, in a state of indescribable agitation, detaining the officer by the sleeve.

"I can't tell you, sir. Excuse me, I must attend to my duty."

Releasing himself from Gerald's grasp, he plunged among his men. Gerald, in his eager anxiety for information of Emilia, asked a dozen persons around him, and obtained a dozen different answers. One said one thing, one said another, and each speaker contradicted the one who had previously spoken. At length he saw on the outskirts of the crowd his housekeeper talking to a lady, and running toward them, he saw that the lady was Mrs. Seaton.

"I am glad you are saved, Mr. Paget," said Mrs. Seaton, with freezing politeness. "I was just asking your housekeeper who is the young lady who was carried out of your house barely half dressed, and she insists that no such person was there. But as a hundred people saw her, there is, of course, no disputing a fact so clear. Perhaps you can tell us who she is?"

A number of neighbors gathered around, some who knew both Gerald and Emilia.

"And I said, sir," said the housekeeper, "that their eyes deceived them----"

"Oh, that is very likely," interposed Mrs. Seaton, in her most malicious tone.

"Because," continued the housekeeper, "when we went to bed last night there was nobody but me and that little wretch of a Susan in the house. It was her who set the place on fire, sir, with her novel reading. I hope she'll be put in prison for it."

"But enlighten us, Mr. Paget," said Mrs. Seaton. "Who was the young lady?"

"You are a malicious scandal-monger," cried Gerald, and tore himself away, feeling that he had made for himself and Emilia a more bitter enemy in calling Mrs. Seaton by that name.

He continued his inquiries for Emilia, but could obtain no satisfaction. So many different stories were related to him that he could not tell which was the true one.

The truth was that Emilia, being aroused from sleep by the fire, unlocked the door of the room in which Gerald had left her, and rushed into the passage. The place was strange to her, and she might have been burned to death had not a fireman, who was making his way past her, pulled her into the street. There she was taken up by one and another, striving all the while to escape the prying eyes of those around her, until, overcome by the complicated horror of her position, she swooned away. Two compassionate maiden ladies, sisters, pitying her state, said they would take care of her, and conveyed her to their home.

There they tended her, wondering who she was, for she was a stranger to them, as they were to her. But the terrors through which Emilia had passed had completely prostrated her; the whole of the succeeding day she fell from one faint into another, and the doctor who was called in said it would be best to wait awhile before they questioned her too closely. "She has had a severe mental shock," he said, "an............