er stayed so long.

At last she heard a door open and close and saw the old parson come
out, wiping his spectacles, and step into the buggy for his drive to the
village.

Then there was another period of suspense, during which the house was
as silent as the grave, and presently her father came into the kitchen,
greeted the twins and Susan, and said to Clara Belle: "Don't go in there
yet!" jerking his thumb towards Mrs. Simpson's room; "she's all beat out
and she's just droppin' off to sleep. I'll send some groceries up from
the store as I go along. Is the doctor makin' a second call tonight?"

"Yes; he'll be here pretty soon, now," Clara Belle answered, looking at
the clock.

"All right. I'll be here again tomorrow, soon as it's light, and if she
ain't picked up any I'll send word back to Daly, and stop here with you
for a spell till she's better."

It was true; Mrs. Simpson was "all beat out." It had been a time of
excitement and stress, and the poor, fluttered creature was dropping off
into the strangest sleep--a sleep made up of waking dreams. The pain,
that had encompassed her heart like a band of steel, lessened its cruel
pressure, and finally left her so completely that she seemed to see it
floating above her head; only that it looked no longer like a band of
steel, but a golden circle.

The frail bark in which she had sailed her life voyage had been rocking
on a rough and tossing ocean, and now it floated, floated slowly into
smoother waters.

As long as she could remember, her boat had been flung about in storm
and tempest, lashed by angry winds, borne against rocks, beaten, torn,
buffeted. Now the waves had subsided; the sky was clear; the sea was
warm and tranquil; the sunshine dried the tattered sails; the air was
soft and balmy.

And now, for sleep plays strange tricks, the bark disappeared from the
dream, and it was she, herself, who was floating, floating farther and
farther away; whither she neither knew nor cared; it was enough to be at
rest, lulled by the lapping of the cool waves.

Then there appeared a green isle rising from the sea; an isle so radiant
and fairy-like that her famished eyes could hardly believe its reality;
but it was real, for she sailed nearer and nearer to its shores, and at
last her feet skimmed the shining sands and she floated through the
air as disembodied spirits float, till she sank softly at the foot of a
spreading tree.

Then she saw the green isle was a floweri