A mist rose before her, and catching for support at the tent, she would have fallen, had not his strong arm encircled her; and soon she lay motionless in her tent.

He stood and looked on her a moment, then knelt and clasped the cold hands.

Mary had not swooned, though well-nigh insensible, and a low moan of anguish escaped her lips, colorless, and writhing with pain.
"Can I do nothing for you ?" "No, thank you; only do not tell Florry and Mr.Stewart I am ill.

It would only damp the joy of their meeting." He left her, and met the lovers as they sought the remainder of the party.

He understood at a glance the position of affairs, and with the sad conviction that Mary loved Mr.Stewart, and loved him in vain, he strove to repress his emotion and appear as usual.
Florence withdrew her hand from Mr.Stewart's clasp, and, with a deep blush, passed Frank in order to reach the tent.