Lucius Davoren, Volume II by Mary Elizabeth Braddon

The sight of the girl he fondly loved lying senseless at his feet, with a white face and closed eyelids, filled Lucius Davoren with unspeakable agony and remorse. How little had he calculated the effect of his words upon this too-sensitive nature! To him the danger involved in the plot which he suspected was but a small thing-a difficulty to be met and grappled with. That was all. But to this inexperienced girl the thought of a midnight intruder, of a stranger's secret entrance into the house, with the connivance of its treacherous inmates, was doubtless appalling.

Could he despise his betrothed for her want of courage? No! His first thought was professional. This sudden fainting fit was no doubt the evidence of weakened health. Days of patient attendance upon the invalid, nights rendered sleepless by anxiety, had done their work. Lucille's strength had given way-that change in her appearance and manner which had so much disturbed him was but one of the indications of broken health. And he, who loved her better than life itself, felt himself guilty of cruel neglect in not having ere this discovered the truth. That gentle self-sacrificing spirit was stronger than the fragile frame which was its earthly temple.