s a quality: time is only a measure of
events, favorable or unfavorable; it kills as many as it cures."

"Why, you surely would not imply his life is in any danger?" This was
the baroness.

"Madame, if the case was not grave, should I take this unusual step? I
tell you if some change does not take place soon, he will be a dead man
in another fortnight. That is all TIME will do for him."

The baroness uttered an exclamation of pity and distress. Josephine put
her hand to her bosom, and a creeping horror came over her, and then a
faintness. She sat working mechanically, and turning like ice within.
After a few minutes of this, she rose with every appearance of external
composure and left the room. In the passage she met Rose coming hastily
towards the salon laughing: the first time she had laughed this many a
day. Oh, what a contrast between the two faces that met there--the one
pale and horror stricken, the other rosy and laughing!

"Well, dear, at last I am paid for all my trouble, and yours, by a
discovery; he never drinks a drop of his medicine; he pours it into the
ashes under the grate; I caught him in the fact."

"Then this is too much: I can resist no longer. Come with me," said
Josephine doggedly.

"Where?"

"To him."

CHAPTER XII.

Josephine paused on the landing, and laid her hand on Rose's shoulder.
It was so cold it made Rose shudder, and exacted a promise from her not
to contradict a word she should say to Camille. "I do not go to him for
my pleasure, but for his life," she said; "I must deceive him and save
him; and then let me lie down and die."

"Oh, that the wretch had never been born!" cried Rose, in despair.
But she gave the required promise, and offered to go and tell Camille
Josephine was coming to visit him.

But Josephine declined this. "No," said she; "give me every advantage; I
must think beforehand every word I shall say; but take him by surprise,
coward and doubleface that I am."

Rose knocked at the door. A faint voice said, "Come in." The sisters
entered the room very softly. Camille sat on the sofa, his head bowed
over his hands. A glance showed Josephine that he was doggedly and
resolutely thrusting himself into the grave. Thinking it was only
Rose--for he had now lost all hope of seeing Josephine come in at the
door--he never moved. Some one glided gently but rapidly up to him. He
looked up. Josephine was kneeling to him.

He lifted his head with a start, and tremb