opped, and
the coat had disappeared into the shadow of a granary.

After the cattleman settled himself upon the bench in the kitchen, the
house fell into quiet once more; and it was not until midnight that the
hush was broken. Then the biggest brother, having moved the curtains of
the canopied bed and turned up the lamp, discovered what he felt to be
the dreaded change in the little girl, and uttered a frightened
exclamation.

Her face, so long flushed with fever, was blanched and wan. Her eyes
were entirely closed, and their long lashes lay on her cheeks. Her arms
were outspread and relaxed, her palms open. Her breathing was so faint
that he had to bend his ear to her lips to hear it. He was certain that
the end was near, and hastened to call his mother and summon his
brothers and the doctor. They were joined in the sitting-room by the
neighbor woman and the cattleman.

It was apparent to all that a change for the worse had taken place in
the little girl. Yet the doctor, who hurried to her side, watch in hand,
betrayed neither satisfaction nor alarm as he bent above her; and the
group about him could only wait in suspense.

Suddenly there came a sigh from the pillow, and the little girl opened
her eyes. For a week she had recognized no one. Now she looked about at
the faces turned upon her, and a faint smile curved her lips. It brought
a cry of joy from her mother. "Oh, pet lamb," she said, "the doctor's
here, and he's going to make my baby well."

A shade passed over the little girl's face, and she glanced from her
mother to the doctor. "I'm really not a baby," she said in a weak voice,
but with something of the old spirit; "my mother jus' says that. I'll be
seven in June."

The doctor nodded, and smiled back at her. His fingers were still at her
wrist, and his face wore a worried expression. The cattleman leaned and
whispered a question in his ear, and he replied out loud. "I can't
tell," he said. "She may and she may not."

The little girl's eyes closed. The doctor poured out a stimulant, and
put the glass to her mouth. When he lifted her head, she drank it, and
her breath came in longer and heavier respirations. No one spoke.

All at once a sound of scratching at the front door, followed by
whining, startled her so that she looked up once more, and her lips
moved. "That's Luffree," she said. Her mother began to smooth her head
tenderly, and it brought a new thought to the little girl. "'Monia'll
give me c