t here first."

"That was last night, wasn't it?" I asked.

"Well, not last night exactly," he answered. And then I gathered that I
had been ill, seriously ill, being two days unconscious, and that Martin
had been in a state of the greatest anxiety.

"He's coming, isn't he?" I said. "Will he be here soon? How does he
look? Is he well? Did he finish his work?"

"Now, now, now," said the doctor, with uplifted hands. "If it's exciting
yourself like this you're going to be, it isn't myself that will he
taking the risk of letting him come at all."

But after I had pleaded and prayed and promised to be good he consented
to allow Martin to see me, and then it was as much as I could do not to
throw my arms about his neck and kiss him.

I had not noticed what Mildred was doing during this time, and almost
before I was aware of it somebody else had entered the room.

It was dear old Father Dan.

"Glory be to God!" he cried at sight of me, and then he said:

"Don't worry, my daughter, now don't worry,"--with that nervous emphasis
which I knew by long experience to be the surest sign of my dear
Father's own perturbation.

I did not know then, or indeed until long afterwards, that for six
months past he had been tramping the streets of London in search of me
(day after day, and in the dark of the night and the cold of the
morning); but something in his tender old face, which was seamed and
worn, so touched me with the memory of the last scene in my mother's
room that my eyes began to overflow, and seeing this he began to laugh
and let loose his Irish tongue on us.

"My blissing on you, doctor! It's the mighty proud man ye'll be
entoirely to be saving the life of the swatest woman in the world. And
whisha, Sister, if ye have a nip of something neat anywhere handy, faith
it isn't my cloth will prevent me from drinking the health of
everybody."

If this was intended to cheer me up it failed completely, for the next
thing I knew was that the doctor was bustling the dear old Father out of
the room, and that Mildred was going out after him.

She left the door open, though, and as soon as I had calmed down a
little I listened intently for every sound outside.

It was then that I heard the whirr of the electric bell again, but more
softly this time, and followed by breathless whispered words in the
corridor (as of some one who had been running) and once more . . . I
knew, I knew, I knew!

After a moment Mildred came to as