ng of the deep-throated bell rang out on the quiet air,
and a moment later, the piercing treble of a child's cry made her
spring to her feet. She peeped into the chapel all was still.

On tiptoe she passed swiftly down the aisle to the chancel, and saw the
figure crouched at the altar, with one arm twined through the railing.
For many days and nights the tortured woman had not known an instant of
repose; nervous dread had scourged her to the verge of frenzy, but when
the flow of long-pent tears partly extinguished the fire in her brain,
overtaxed Nature claimed restitution, and the prisoner yielded to
overwhelming prostration. Death might be hovering near, but her twin
sister sleep intervened, and compassionately laid her poppies on the
snowy eyelids.

Stooping close, Mrs. Singleton saw that tears yet hung on the black
lashes which swept the flushed cheeks, but the parted lips were at
rest, and the deep regularly drawn breath told her that at last the
weary soul reposed in the peaceful domain of dreams. Deftly, and softly
as thistledown falls, she spread her own shawl over the drooping
shoulders, then noiselessly hurried back to the door. Locking it, she
took the key, ran across the grass, into the arcade, and up to the
great iron barrier, which the guard opened as she approached. With
flying feet she neared her own apartments, whence issued the indignant
wail of her implacable baby girl. As she opened the door, her husband
held the disconsolate child toward her.

"You are in time for your share of the fun; I have had enough and to
spare. How you stand this diabolical din day in, day out, passes my
comprehension. You had not been gone fifteen minutes when Missy tuned
up. I patted and, 'She-e-d' her, but she got her head above cover,
squinted around the room, and not finding you, set up a squall that
would have scared a wildcat. The more I patted, the worse she screamed,
and her feet and hands flew around like a wind-mill. I took her up, and
trotted her on my knee, but bless you! she squirmed like an eel, and
her little bald head bobbed up and down faster than a di-dapper. Then I
walked her, but I would as soon try to swing to a greased snake. She
wriggled and bucked, and tied herself up into a bow knot, and yelled--.
Oh! a Comanche papoose is a dummy to her. As if I had not hands full,
arms full, and ears full, Dick must needs wake up and pitch head
foremost out of the cradle, and turn a double summerset before he
la