uptly.

"Well, I can't say as she looks any worse to _me_ either; but Dr. Van
Anden is in a fidget, and I suppose he knows what he's about."

The doctor came in at eleven o'clock, stood for a moment by the
bedside, glanced at the old lady, who was dozing in her rocking-chair,
then came over to Ester and spoke low:

"I can't trust the nurse. She has been broken of her rest, and is
weary. I want _you_ to keep awake. If she" (nodding toward Florence)
"stirs, give her a spoonful from that tumbler on the stand. I shall be
back at twelve. If she wakens, you may call her father, and send
John for me; he's in the kitchen. I shall be around the corner at
Vinton's."

Then he went away, softly, as he had come.

The lamp burned low over by the window, the nurse slept on in her
arm-chair, and Ester sat with wide-open eyes fixed on Florence. And
all this time she thought that the doctor was engaged in getting up
a scene, the story of which should go forth next day in honor of his
skill and faithfulness; yet, having come to watch, she would not sleep
at her post, even though she believed in her heart that, were she
sleeping by Sadie's side, and the doctor quiet in his own room, all
would go on well until the morning.

But the doctor's evident anxiety had driven sleep from the eyes of the
gray-haired old man whose one darling lay quiet on the bed. He came in
very soon after the doctor had departed.

"I can't sleep," he said, in explanation, to Ester. "Some way I feel
worried. Does she seem worse to you?"

"Not a bit," Ester said, promptly. "I think she looks better than
usual."

"Yes," Mr. Vane answered, in an encouraged tone; "and she has been
quite bright all day; but the doctor is all down about her. He won't
say a single cheering word."

Ester's indignation grew upon her. "He might, at least, have let this
old man sleep in peace," she said, sharply, in her heart.

At twelve, precisely, the doctor returned. He went directly to the
bedside.

"How has she been?" he asked of Ester, in passing.

"Just as she is now." Ester's voice was not only dry, but sarcastic.

Mr. Vane scanned the doctor's face eagerly, but it was grave and sad.
Quiet reigned in the room. The two men at Florence's side neither
spoke nor stirred. Ester kept her seat across from them, and grew
every moment more sure that she was right, and more provoked. Suddenly
the silence was broken. Dr. Van Anden bent low over the sleeper, and
spoke in a gentle,