his knee to his neck; but her strength was
unequal even to this slight action. The hand was raised only a few
inches ere it sank back again to its old position; a tear rolled slowly
over her cheek as she closed her eyes again, but she never spoke.

'See,' said the physician, pointing to her, 'the current of life is at
its lowest ebb! If it flows again, it must flow to-night.'

Vetranio made no answer; he dropped down on the seat near him, and
covered his face with his robe.

The physician, beholding the senator's situation, and reflecting on the
strange hurriedly-uttered confession which had just been addressed to
him, began to doubt whether the scenes through which his patron had
lately passed had not affected his brain. Philosopher though he was,
the man of science had never observed the outward symptoms of the first
working of good and pure influences in elevating a degraded mind; he
had never watched the denoting signs of speech and action which mark
the progress of mental revolution while the old nature is changing for
the new; such objects of contemplation existed not for him. He gently
touched Vetranio on the shoulder. 'Rise,' said he, 'and let us depart.
Those are around her who can watch her best. Nothing remains for us
but to wait and hope. With the earliest morning we will return.'

He delivered a few farewell directions to one of the women in
attendance, and then, accompanied by the senator, who, without speaking
again, mechanically rose to follow him, quitted the room. After this,
the silence was only interrupted by the sound of an occasional whisper,
and of quick, light footsteps passing backwards and forwards. Then the
cooling, reviving draughts which had been prepared for the night were
poured ready into the cups; and the women approached Numerian, as if to
address him, but he waved his hand impatiently when he saw them; and
then they too, in their turn, departed, to wait in an adjoining
apartment until they should be summoned again.

Nothing changed in the manner of the father when he was left alone in
the chamber of sickness, which the lapse of a few hours might convert
into the chamber of death. He sat watching Antonina, and touching the
outspread locks of her hair from time to time, as had been his wont.
It was a fair, starry night; the fresh air of the soft winter climate
of the South blew gently over the earth, the great city was sinking
fast into tranquillity, calling voices were so