"Poor little lily," murmured the negress, in a sympathetic tone, when
the girl was able to sit up and look about her.
"Where am I?" demanded Nell.
"Youse in good hands, chile," answered the black woman. "Your cousin
says he'll take you outen dis soon's you can trabbel."
"My cousin?"
Nell stared at the black, seemingly honest face in wonder. Of a sudden
the memory of the adventure in the basement on Clark street came to
the girl as a light from a clouded sky. She had indeed been under a
cloud for a long time, and had no means of judging of the passage of
time.
What had happened during all this while? What fate had been her
brother's? A feeling of deepest anxiety filled the girl's breast. Ere
she could find voice for more words, however, the door opened and a
man entered the room.
A low, alarmed cry fell from the lips of Nell Darrel.
Before her stood Harper Elliston, smiling and plucking at his beard,
which was but a mere stubble now, he having shaved since she had met
him last.
"Ah, Nell, you are looking bright; I trust that you feel better. You
have been very sick. How does your head feel?"
For the first time the girl realized that there was a sore spot under
her hair at the side of her head.
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