impending departure, but when she had promised to take them as far as
the depot, their thoughts followed other currents, and very soon
after, both slumbered soundly in their trundle-bed.

With her cheek resting on her hand, Salome sat looking at them, noting
the glossiness of their curling hair, the flush on their round faces,
the regular breathing of peaceful childhood's sleep. Once she could
have wept, and would have knelt and prayed over them; but now her own
overmastering misery had withered all the tenderness in her heart,
and, while her eyes of flesh rested on the orphans, her mental vision
was filled with the figure of that gray-haired woman hanging on Dr.
Grey's arm. In a dull, cold, abstract way, she hoped that the little
ones would be happy,--how could they be otherwise when fortune had
committed them to Dr. Grey's guardianship? But a numb, desperate
feeling had seized her, and she cared for nothing, loved nothing,
prayed for nothing.

How the hours of that night of wretchedness passed she never knew; but
when the little bird in the parlor clock "cuckooed" three times, she
was aroused from her reverie by the tramp of horses' hoofs on the
gravel, and then the sharp clang of the bell echoed through the silent
house.

It was not unusual for messengers to summon Dr. Grey during the night,
and she was not surprised when, some moments later, she heard his
voice in the hall. After the lapse of a quarter of an hour, his firm,
well-known step approached and paused at her threshold.

"Salome, are you up?"

"Yes, sir."

"Come into the passage."

She opened the door, and stood with the candle in her hand.

"I regret exceedingly that I am compelled to leave here immediately,
as I must hasten to see a man and child who have been horribly burned
and injured by the falling in of a roof. The parties live some
distance in the country, and I fear I shall not be able to get back in
time to go with you to the cars. I shall drive as rapidly as possible,
and hope to accompany you, but if I should be detained, here is a note
which I hastily scribbled to Mr. Miller, the conductor, whom you will
find a very kind and courteous gentleman. I sincerely deplore this
summons, but the sufferers are old friends of my sister, and I hope
you will believe that nothing but a case of life and death would
prevent me from seeing you aboard the train."

"I am sorry, sir, that you thought it necessary to apologize."

She was not yet prepar