er's dull ears began to hear a little cough, which seemed to
echo from some grave not very far away; and when he drew his little love
between his knees, and put on his spectacles to gaze into her face, the
dearest face in all the world to him, even his eyes saw something of its
wanness, and the hollow lines which had come upon it since the summer had
passed away. The old man felt troubled about her, yet he scarcely knew
what to do. He bought sweetmeats to soothe her cough, and thought
sometimes that he must ask somebody or other about a doctor for her; but
his treacherous memory always let the thought slip out of his mind. He
intended to take counsel with his sister when she came to see him; but
aunt Charlotte was herself very ill with an attack of rheumatism, and
could not get up to old Oliver's house.

CHAPTER XVII.

A VERY DARK SHADOW.

The Christmas week passed by, and the new year came in, cold and bleak,
but Tony was well secured against the weather, and liked the frosty air,
which made it pleasant to run as fast as he could from place to place as
he delivered his parcels. When boxing day came, which was half-holiday
for him, he returned to the house at mid-day, carrying with him three
mince-pies, which he had felt himself rich enough to buy in honour of the
holiday. He had for a long time been reckoning upon shutting up shop for
the whole afternoon, and upon going out for a long stroll through the
streets with old Oliver and Dolly; and now that the hour was positively
come he felt very light-hearted and full of spirits, defying the wind
which wrestled with him at every turn. Dolly must be wrapped up well, he
said to himself, and old Oliver must put on his drab great coat, with
mother o' pearl buttons, which he had brought up from the country forty
years ago, and which was still good for keeping out the cold. He ran
down the alley, and passed through the shop whistling cheerily, and
disdaining to lift the flap of the counter, he took a running vault over
it, and landed at once inside the open kitchen-door.

But there was old Oliver sitting close to the fire, with Dolly on his
knee, and her little head lying upon his breast, while the tears trickled
slowly down his furrowed cheeks on to her pretty curls. Beppo was
standing between his legs, licking Dolly's small hand, which hung
languidly by her side. Her eyelids were closed, and her face was deadly
white; but when Tony uttered a great cry of trouble, an