"Don't sit so, looking at nothing," cried Elsie.

"Yes, dear. There, do you think you can go to sleep?"

"I won't try, unless you go to sleep too. Draw the sofa up by the bed
and lie down."

He obeyed her command, willing to gratify her least caprice. She gave
him one of her pillows, threw a part of the counterpane over him, and
made him lie there, holding fast to his hand, afraid to be alone, even
in her dreams.

"Do you feel sleepy, Grant?" she asked, after a pause.

"Perhaps so; I am resting, at all events."

"Don't you remember when I was sick once, years ago, I never would sleep
unless I held your hand?"

"Yes, dear."

How far back the time looked--he had been a mere youth then--what a
fearful waste lay between that season and the present!

Suddenly Elsie started up again.

"You sent the letter, Grant?"

"Yes, yes; be content."

She was so much afraid even to sleep, that it relieved her to turn her
last waking thoughts upon some little good she was doing Elizabeth.

"Good-night, now," she said; "I can go to sleep. Kiss my hand, Grant.
You love me, don't you?"

"Always, darling, always; nothing can part you and me."

She fell away into a tranquil slumber, and Mellen lay for a long time
watching her repose; it was a brief season of peace to her, for burning
thoughts had not followed her into her dreams.

The extreme quiet, the sight of her placid face soothed him
imperceptibly. A dreary weakness began to make itself felt after that
long continued excitement. At length the lids drooped over his eyes, and
he slept almost as profoundly as Elsie herself. For a long time there
was no sound in the chamber; the brother and sister lay slumbering while
the day wore on and the twilight crept slowly around.

When Elsie awoke it was to rouse him with the cry which had been so
often on her lips during the previous day--

"Bessie, Bessie!"

He started up, spoke to her, and his voice brought her back to the
reality.

"I was so happy," she moaned; "I dreamed that Bessie and I were
gathering pond lilies--she was wreathing them about my head--then just
as I woke I saw a snake sting her--before that it was all bright. Oh,
dear, if I could only sleep forever!"

CHAPTER LXXII.

TOM FULLER RETURNS.

The next day Elsie was still stronger and better. She consented to lie
in bed all the morning, making it a condition that she might get up and
be carried downstairs to pass the evening.

"That is the