gasped for breath.

"What is it?" he asked hoarsely.

"_Good_ news, I said," Dr. Barton hastened to say, as he sprang to his
side to prevent him from falling. "Your child yet lives, and though her
life still hangs by a thread, the crisis is past, and I have some hope
that she may recover."

"Thank God! thank God!" exclaimed the father, sinking into a seat; and
burying his face in his hands, he sobbed aloud.

The doctor went out and closed the door softly; and Horace Dinsmore,
falling upon his knees, poured out his thanksgivings, and then and there
consecrated himself, with all his talents and possessions, to the service
of that God who had so mercifully spared to him his heart's best
treasure.

Adelaide's joy and thankfulness were scarcely less than his, when to her,
also, the glad and wondrous tidings were communicated. And Mr. Travilla
and his mother shared their happiness, as they had shared their sorrow.
Yet they all rejoiced with trembling, for that little life was still for
many days trembling in the balance; and to the father's anxiety was also
added the heavy trial of being excluded from her room.

The physician had early informed him that it would be risking her life
for him to enter her presence until she should herself inquire for him,
as they could not tell how great might be the agitation it would cause
her. And so he waited, day after day, hoping for the summons, but
constantly doomed to disappointment; for even after she had become strong
enough to look about her, and ask questions, and to notice her friends
with a gentle smile, and a word of thanks to each, several days passed
away, and she had neither inquired for him nor even once so much as
mentioned his name.

It seemed passing strange, and the thought that perhaps his cruelty had
so estranged her from him that she no longer cared for his presence or
his love, caused him many a bitter pang, and at times rendered him so
desperate that, but for the doctor's repeated warnings, he would have
ended this torturing suspense by going to her, and begging to hear from
her own lips whether she had indeed ceased to love him.

Adelaide tried to comfort and encourage him to wait patiently, but
she, too, thought it very strange, and began to have vague fears that
something was wrong with her little niece.

She wondered that Dr. Barton treated the matter so lightly.

"But, then," thought she, "he has no idea how strongly the child was
attached to her fat