On awaking from a long and deep swoon, Rosilia cast a doubtful glance around her; but, again closing her eyes, a sense of pain, trouble, and anxiety, caused her insensibly to wish it might be permitted her never more to re-open them. As nature, however, operated towards recovery, she felt sensible that some friendly hand had been applying restoratives, and had chafed her temples, and looking up was desirous to learn to whom she was thus indebted. It was Mrs. Belmour, and her attendants, who had recalled her to existence; she sighed, and whilst pressing the hand of Mrs. Belmour, in tokens of acknowledgment, cast around a timid and inquisitive glance.
"My dear young friend," said Mrs. Belmour, the attendants having withdrawn, "compose yourself; you have been very ill, but are now, I hope, recovering; in a short time you will be perfectly yourself again. I have not sent for Mrs. De Brooke, in the fear of alarming her." Rosilia was about replying, but Mrs. Belmour checked her, adding, she would not listen to anything she might say until she was more recovered.
In a few minutes Mrs. Belmour continued: "Those men, who so rudely burst in upon Mr. Melliphant, it was no wonder they alarmed you. Who do you think they were? No other than bailiffs, who, according to the account they give of themselves, had traced my friend here, and to whom there is no possibility of denying admittance. Wherever their
