e sternly.

"Speak to him," he said, sharply.

"I am here, Mr. McNeil. I have come back safe and well. Try to sleep."

Her voice seemed to pierce the troubled brain, and his face lost much of
its troubled look.

"Sing something, Dexie," said Mrs. Gurney, "and perhaps he will sleep. He
has not been quiet since they brought him home," and, bending down, said
softly, "Try, Dexie. I know it is hard for you, but if he will sleep it
will be almost the saving of him. You will do this for me, I know."

"Nearer, my God, to Thee; nearer to Thee."

It was almost a whisper, but it soon had a visible effect on Hugh, and in
half an hour the doctor's curt words, "You may go now," were more welcome
than the sweetest praise.

As the fever ran its course, Dexie was frequently called to Hugh's
bedside. How she dreaded those visits, yet stern duty forbade her to
refuse, as her heart often prompted.

Dexie soon saw that she was not in the doctor's good graces, for as Hugh
revealed the past, in broken and disjointed sentences, it gave him the
impression that she had been trifling with Hugh's affections, and she
resented the tone he assumed when speaking to her. However, as the days
passed, and the doctor learned the real truth of the matter, he began to
look at Dexie with less disfavor; but the inquisitive manner with which he
now regarded her was not less objectionable.

"You will marry him yet," the doctor said one night as he watched his
patient through his wildest hours.

Dexie, who was sitting near the window, turned in surprise at the
unlooked-for remark.

"Yes, my word for it, Miss Sherwood, you will marry him yet, after all the
fuss you have made over your refusal."

"Never!" The reply was low, but intense. "I know my own mind, I guess! I
would not stay in the same room with him, though he is unconscious of my
presence, only Mrs. Gurney imagines he is less restless when I am near, and
she is anxious about his recovery."

"Oh! you need not tell _me_! I have heard of such cases before now. I have
seen your eyes full of pity as you have watched beside him with Mrs.
Gurney."

"Perhaps so; but not with the 'pity that is akin to love,' by any means,"
and as Mrs. Gurney returned to the room, she bowed a stiff good-night to
the doctor and went home.

After days of anxiety the fever reached its height, and there was not a
more anxious heart in the house that day than Dexie's own.

As she went about her daily household du