ting when they heard the Doctor and
his sister come in.

For three days Elizabeth saw nothing of Mr. Mackenzie. At last, on the
fourth day, passing his office in the village, she went in and asked for
him. He came out of his little back parlor with his mouth full and a
beaming face.

"Good-day, Miss Crowe, and good news!"

"_Good_ news?" cried Lizzie.

"Capital!" said he, looking hard at her, while he put on his spectacles.
"She writes that Mr. John--won't you take a seat?--has taken a sudden
and unexpected turn for the better. Now's the moment to save him; it's
an equal risk. They were to start for the North the second day after
date. The surgeon comes with them. So they'll be home--of course they'll
travel slowly--in four or five days. Yes, Miss, it's a remarkable
Providence. And that noble young man will be spared to the country, and
to those who love him, as I do."

"I had better go back to the house and have it got ready," said Lizzie,
for an answer.

"Yes, Miss, I think you had. In fact, Mrs. Ford made that request."

The request was obeyed. That same day Lizzie went home. For two days she
found it her interest to overlook, assiduously, a general sweeping,
scrubbing, and provisioning. She allowed herself no idle moment until
bed-time. Then--But I would rather not be the chamberlain of her agony.
It was the easier to work, as Mr. Bruce had gone to Leatherborough on
business.

On the fourth evening, at twilight, John Ford was borne up to the door
on his stretcher, with his mother stalking beside him in rigid grief,
and kind, silent friends pressing about with helping hands.

"Home they brought her warrior dead,
She nor swooned nor uttered cry."

It was, indeed, almost a question, whether Jack was not dead. Death is
not thinner, paler, stiller. Lizzie moved about like one in a dream. Of
course, when there are so many sympathetic friends, a man's family has
nothing to do,--except exercise a little self-control. The women huddled
Mrs. Ford to bed; rest was imperative; she was killing herself. And it
was significant of her weakness that she did not resent this advice. In
greeting her, Lizzie felt as if she were embracing the stone image on
the top of a sepulchre. She, too, had her cares anticipated. Good Doctor
Cooper and his sister stationed themselves at the young man's couch.

The Doctor prophesied wondrous things of the change of climate; he was
certain of a recovery. Lizzie found herself very