ntly recognized as a celebrated English doctor resident in the
neighborhood. To him I repeated my inquiry--he beckoned me into a side
room and closed the door.

"The fact is," he said, simply, "it is a case of gross neglect. The
child has evidently been in a weakly condition for some time past, and
therefore is an easy prey to any disease that may be lurking about. She
was naturally strong--I can see that--and had I been called in when the
symptoms first developed themselves, I could have cured her. The nurse
tells me she dared not enter the mother's room to disturb her after
midnight, otherwise she would have called her to see the child--it is
unfortunate, for now I can do nothing."

I listened like one in a dream. Not even old Assunta dared to enter her
mistress's room after midnight--no! not though the child might be
seriously ill and suffering. I knew the reason well--too well! And so
while Ferrari had taken his fill of rapturous embraces and lingering
farewells, my little one had been allowed to struggle in pain and fever
without her mother's care or comfort. Not that such consolation would
have been much at its best, but I was fool enough to wish there had
been this one faint spark of womanhood left in her upon whom I had
wasted all the first and only love of my life. The doctor watched me as
I remained silent, and after a pause he spoke again.

"The child has earnestly asked to see you," he said, "and I persuaded
the countess to send for you, though she was very reluctant to do so,
as she said you might catch the disease. Of course there is always a
risk--"

"I am no coward, monsieur," I interrupted him, "though many of us
Italians prove but miserable panic-stricken wretches in time of
plague--the more especially when compared with the intrepidity and
pluck of Englishmen. Still there are exceptions--"

The doctor smiled courteously and bowed. "Then I have no more to say,
except that it would be well for you to see my little patient at once.
I am compelled to be absent for half an hour, but at the expiration of
that time I will return."

"Stay!" I said, laying a detaining hand on his arm. "Is there any hope?"

He eyed me gravely. "I fear not."

"Can nothing be done?"

"Nothing--except to keep her as quiet and warm as possible. I have left
some medicine with the nurse which will alleviate the pain. I shall be
able to judge of her better when I return; the illness will have then
reached its crisis." In a