e was shocked to see the hard,
drawn lines on her pale face, and the dull, cold light in her eyes.

"They say it can't last much longer," she said wearily, and without
asking him for his opinion.

"No," he assented gently, as he sat down by her side. "It can't be like
this long; the change will come in a few hours, and then I hope our Ned
will be better."

But Louise shook her head.

"What's the use of saying that, Dr. Brownlee?" she said, in a low,
strained voice. "You don't mean it, I know; and I'm not a baby, to be
comforted with just words. Oh, doctor, if I could only cry! I've tried
to, and I can't,--can't do anything but think, and wonder what I shall
do without Ned."

She was silent for a moment; then she went on excitedly, "Dr. Brownlee,
if Ned doesn't get well, I shall always believe that Dr. Hofer killed
him. There was a case of fever across the creek, and he let the children
from that very house go all over town. One of them was in the choir, a
week before Ned was taken ill. It was wicked, wicked! I can't have Ned's
life thrown away, just for that. It mustn't be so; I can't bear it!" And
her head dropped again, as she wailed, "Oh, doctor, can't you save him?"

The sight of her bitter sorrow was more than the doctor could bear, and
his own voice was unsteady, as he answered sadly,--

"I will do what I can; but we can only wait and hope." He paused; then
he laid one of his firm hands on hers, and said in a low voice, "Louise,
I can't help you; but won't you give me the right to comfort you, to"--

But Louise interrupted him.

"Wait," she begged. "I can't think of it now--of anything but Ned. I
must go back to him." And she left him alone.

Late that evening, the doctor and Mrs. Pennypoker sat by the bed, almost
breathlessly watching the boy, who lay in a sort of stupor. Dr. Brownlee
had come in early, and announced his intention of spending the night in
the house, to watch over his patient. He had sent away Louise and her
father to take a little rest, promising to call them, in case of any
change. For more than two hours he had been sitting there, expecting the
end to come at almost any moment; but still the boy's lethargy was
unbroken.

Then, all at once, the doctor leaned forward and gazed closely at the
face before him. The change had come, and Ned lay breathing quietly, in
the longed-for, life-giving sleep. For a few moments more Dr. Brownlee
sat there, scarcely daring to move; then, with a hap