spent her time in watching her, the nurse being prevented from
continuing her drug, she was, of course, so miserable without it, that
Preston had ventured on proposing it, to which Mrs. Rivers had replied
with displeasure sufficient to prevent her from declaring how much she
had previously given. Preston was in an agony of distress for her little
charge, as well as of fear for herself, and could hardly understand what
her error had been. Dr. May soon saw that, though not highly principled,
her sorrow was sincere, and that she still wept bitterly over the
consequences of her treatment, when he told her that she had nothing to
fear from the law, and that he would protect her from Mr. Rivers.

Her confession was hardly over when Meta knocked at the door, pale and
frightened. "Oh, Dr. May, do come to poor Flora! I don't know what to
do, and George is in such a state!"

Dr. May made a sound of sorrow and perplexity, and Meta, as she went
down before him, asked, in a low, horror-stricken whisper, "Did Preston
really--"

"Not knowingly," said Dr. May. "It is the way many children have gone;
but I never thought--"

They had come to Flora's dressing-room. Her bedroom door was open, and
George was pacing heavily up and down the length of both apartments,
fiercely indignant. "Well!" said he, advancing eagerly on Dr. May, "has
she confessed?"

"But Flora!" said Dr. May, instead of answering him. Flora lay on her
bed, her face hidden on her pillow, only now and then moaning.

"Flora, my poor, poor child!" said her father, bending down to raise
her, and taking her hand.

She moved away, so as to bury her face more completely; but there was
life in the movement, and he was sufficiently reassured on her situation
to be able to attend to George, who was only impatient to rush off
to take his revenge. He led him into the outer room, where Meta was
waiting, and forced upon his unwilling conviction that it was no case
for the law. The child had not been killed by any one dose, but had
rather sunk from the want of stimulus, to which she had been accustomed.
As to any pity for the woman, George would not hear of it. She was
still, in his eyes, the destroyer of his child; and, when he found the
law would afford him no vengeance, he insisted that she should be turned
out of his house at once.

"George!" called a hollow voice from the next room, and hurrying back,
they saw Flora sitting up, and, as well as trembling limbs allowed,
en