the room. I soaked some crumbled morsels of biscuit
in the wine, and, little by little, I revived her failing strength by
nourishment administered at intervals in that cautious form. After a
while she raised her head, and looked at me with wondering eyes that
were pitiably like the eyes of her child. A faint, delicate flush began
to show itself in her face. She spoke to me, for the first time, in
whispering tones that I could just hear as I sat close at her side.

"How did you find me? Who showed you the way to this place?"

She paused; painfully recalling the memory of something that was slow
to come back. Her color deepened; she found the lost remembrance, and
looked at me with a timid curiosity. "What brought you here?" she asked.
"Was it my dream?"

"Wait, dearest, till you are stronger, and I will tell you all."

I lifted her gently, and laid her on the wretched bed. The child
followed us, and climbing to the bedstead with my help, nestled at her
mother's side. I sent the boy away to tell the mistress of the house
that I should remain with my patient, watching her progress toward
recovery, through the night. He went out, jingling his money joyfully in
his pocket. We three were left together.

As the long hours followed each other, she fell at intervals into a
broken sleep; waking with a start, and looking at me wildly as if I had
been a stranger at her bedside. Toward morning the nourishment which I
still carefully administered wrought its healthful change in her pulse,
and composed her to quieter slumbers. When the sun rose she was sleeping
as peacefully as the child at her side. I was able to leave her, until
my return later in the day, under the care of the woman of the house.
The magic of money transformed this termagant and terrible person into
a docile and attentive nurse--so eager to follow my instructions exactly
that she begged me to commit them to writing before I went away. For a
moment I still lingered alone at the bedside of the sleeping woman, and
satisfied myself for the hundredth time that her life was safe, before
I left her. It was the sweetest of all rewards to feel sure of this--to
touch her cool forehead lightly with my lips--to look, and look again,
at the poor worn face, always dear, always beautiful, to _my_ eyes.
change as it might. I closed the door softly and went out in the bright
morning, a happy man again. So close together rise the springs of joy
and sorrow in human life! So near