After taking up the vinaigrette, which had fallen from her hand, and holding the bottle a short time to her face, the lady began to revive.

During all this time, the veil had still partly covered the face of the fair one, so that Jerome had scarcely seen it.

When she had so far recovered as to be able to look around her, she raised herself slightly, and again screamed and swooned.

The old man now feeling satisfied that Jerome's dark complexion was the immediate cause of the catastrophe, said in a somewhat petulant tone,-- "I will be glad, sir, if you will leave us alone." The little boy at this juncture set up a loud cry, and amid the general confusion, Jerome left the ground and returned to his hotel.
While seated at the window of his room looking out upon the crowded street, with every now and then the strange scene in the graveyard vividly before him, Jerome suddenly thought of the book he had been reading, and, remembering that he had left it on the tombstone, where he dropped it when called to the lady's assistance, he determined to return for it at once.
After a walk of some twenty minutes, he found himself again in the burial-ground and on the spot where he had been an hour before.

The pensive moon was already up, and its soft light was sleeping on the little pond at the back of the grounds, while the stars seemed smiling at their own sparkling rays gleaming up from the beautiful sheet of water.
Jerome searched in vain for his book; it was nowhere to be found.
Nothing, save the bouquet that the lady had dropped, and which lay half-buried in the grass, from having been trodden upon, indicated that any one had been there that evening.