Her face was turned away,
and partly hidden by the fringe of a pillow.

"You must eat something," he said, speaking kindly. But she neither
moved nor replied.

"Jessie." No motion or response.

"Jessie!" Mr. Dexter stood a few feet from the bed, looking at her.

"She may be sleeping," he thought, and stepping forward, he bent
down and laid his fingers lightly on her cheek. It was unnaturally
hot. "Jessie"--he uttered her name again--"are you asleep?"

"No." She replied in a feeble murmur.

"Won't you have a cup of tea?"

"No."

"Are you sick?"

She did not answer. He laid his hand upon her cheek again.

"You have fever."

A low sigh was the only response.

"Does your head ache?"

Something was said in reply, but the ear of Mr. Dexter could not
make out the words.

"Jessie! Jessie! Why don't you answer me? Are you sick?"

Mr. Dexter spoke with rising impatience. Still and silent as an
effigy she remained. For a moment or two he strode about the room,
and then went out abruptly. He came back in half an hour.

There lay his wife as he had left her, and without the appearance of
having stirred. A shadow of deeper concern now fell upon his
spirits. Bending over the bed, and laying his hand upon her face
again, he perceived that it was not only flushed, but hotter than
before. He spoke, but her ears seemed shut to his voice.

"Jessie! Jessie!" He moved her gently, turning her face towards him.
Her eyes were closed, her lips shut firmly, and wearing an
expression of pain, her forehead slightly contracted.

"Shall I call a physician?" he asked.

But she did not reply. Sudden alarm awakened in the heart of Mr.
Dexter. Going to the bell, he rang it violently. To the servant who
came he said, hurriedly--

"Go and find Dr. G--, and tell him that I wish to see him
immediately."

The servant departed, and Dexter went back to the bed. No change had
occurred in his wife. She still lay, to all appearance, in a stupor.
It was nearly a quarter of an hour before Dr. G-- came; the waiter
had been at some trouble to find him.

"My wife seems quite ill," said Mr. Dexter, as he entered, "and, I
think requires medical attention."

Dr. G-- went to the bedside and stood looking at the flushed face
of Mrs. Dexter for some moments. Then he laid his hand against her
cheek, and then took hold of her wrist. Mr. Dexter, whose eyes were
on him, thought he saw him start and change countenance at the first
stroke of the pu