out
into the hall, where the doctor sat waiting for her.

John's mustached lip curled a little scornfully as he read it.

"Why, puss, that girl or woman is in Georgia by this time, and as the
result of this, Terrace Hill will be thronged with unfortunate women and
children, desiring situations. Better let me burn this, as I did the
other, and not be foolish. She will never see it," and John made a
gesture as if he would put it in the stove, but Anna caught his hand,
saying imploringly: "Please humor me this once. She may see it, and I'm
so interested."

Anna was always humored, and the doctor placed in his memorandum book
the note, then turning to Alice he addressed her in so low a tone that
Anna readily took the hint and left them together. Dr. Richards was not
intending to be gone long, he said, though the time would seem a little
eternity, so much was his heart now bound up in Snowdon.

Afraid lest he might say something more of the same nature, Alice
hastened to ask if he had seen her mother, and what he thought of her.

"I stepped in for a moment while you were in the library," he replied.
"She seemed to have a high fever, and I fancied it increased while I
stood by her. I am sorry to leave while she is so sick, but remember
that if anything happens you will be dearer to me than ever," and the
doctor pressed the little hand which he took in his to say good-by, for
now he must really go.

As the day and night wore on Mrs. Johnson grew worse so rapidly, that at
her request a telegram was forwarded to Mr. Liston, who had charge of
her moneyed affairs, and who came at once, for the kind old man was
deeply interested in the widow and her lovely daughter. As Mrs. Johnson,
could bear it, they talked alone together until he perfectly understood
what her wishes were with regard to Alice, and how to deal with Dr.
Richards, whom he had not yet seen. Then promising to return again in
case the worst should happen, he took his leave, while Mrs. Johnson, now
that a weight was lifted from her mind, seemed to rally, and the
physician pronounced her better. But with that strange foreknowledge, as
it were, which sometimes comes to people whose days are nearly numbered,
she felt that she would die, and that in mercy this interval of rest and
freedom from pain was granted her, in which she might talk with Alice
concerning the arrangements for the future.

"Alice, darling," she said, when they were alone, "come sit by me here
o