End of The Lady's Story

Of the present naught is bright,
But in the coming years I see
A brilliant and a cheerful light,
Which burns before thee constantly.

W. D. Gallagher

At the appointed hour the next morning Traverse Rocke repaired to the
cell of his mysterious patient.

He was pleased to find her up, dressed with more than usual care and
taste and looking, upon the whole, much better in health and spirits
than upon the preceding day.

"Ah, my young hero, it is you; you see that I am ready for you," she
said, holding out her hand.

"You are looking very well this morning," said Traverse, smiling.

"Yes, hope is a fine tonic, Doctor Rocke."

She was seated by the same window at which Traverse had first seen her,
and she now beckoned the young doctor to come and take a seat near her.

"My story is almost as melodramatic as a modern romance, Doctor Rocke,"
she said.

Traverse bowed gravely and waited.

"My father was a French patriot, who suffered death in the cause of
liberty when I, his only child, was but fourteen years of age. My
mother, broken-hearted by his loss, followed him within a few months. I
was left an orphan and penniless, for our estate was confiscated."

"Ah, your sorrows came early and heavily indeed," said Traverse.

"Yes; well, a former servant of my father held an humble situation of
porter on the ground floor of a house, the several floors of which were
let out to different lodgers. This poor man and his wife gave me a
temporary home with themselves. Among the lodgers of the house there
was a young Virginian gentleman of fortune, traveling for pleasure and
improvement; his name was Mr. Eugene Le Noir."