gh, if one could have understood it, but
it was nearly all Greek to me. Sometimes you were in Germany, talking
about all manner of outlandish things; sometimes you were in New York,
playing Good Samaritan to Agnes Darling."

"Oh, poor Agnes! Where is she?"

"Taken to the high seas. She and Harry had to go, much against their
inclination, while you were so ill."

"And Eeny--did Eeny suffer any harm that night?"

"No; Doctor Frank was the only sufferer. The poor old house was burned
to the ground. I was so sorry."

"And everything was lost?"

"No, a great many things were saved. And they are building a new and
much more handsome Danton Hall, but I shall never love it as I did the
old place."

"Where are we now?"

"In the village. We have taken this cottage until the new house is
finished. Now don't ask any more questions. Too much talking isn't good
for you."

"How very peremptory you are!" said the invalid, smiling; "and you have
taken care of me all this weary time. What a trouble I must have been!"

"Didn't I say so! A shocking trouble. And now that you are able to
converse rationally, you are more trouble than ever, asking so many
questions. Go to sleep."

"Won't you let me thank you first?"

"No, thanks never would repay me for all the annoyance you have been.
Show your gratitude by obedience, sir--stop talking and go to sleep!"

Perhaps Doctor Frank found it very pleasant to be ordered, for he obeyed
with a smile on his face.

Of course, with such a nurse as Miss Danton, the man would be obstinate,
indeed, who would not rally. Doctor Frank was the reverse of obdurate,
and rallied with astonishing rapidity. His sister, Eeny, and Kate were
the most devoted, the most attentive of nurses; but the hours that
Captain Danton's eldest daughter sat by his bedside flew like so many
minutes. It was very pleasant to lie there, propped up with pillows,
with the April sunshine lying in yellow squares on the faded old carpet,
and watch that beautiful face, bending over some piece of elaborate
embroidery, or the humble dress of some village child. She read for him,
too, charming romances, and poetry as sweet as the ripple of a sunlit
brook, in that enchanting voice of hers; and Doctor Frank began to think
convalescence the most delightful state of being that ever was heard of,
and to wish it could last forever.

But, like all the pleasant things of this checkered life, it came to an
end all too soon. The day arr