of my imperative
summons?"

For them all Theodore had prompt answers.

"No, madam"--to Mrs. Hastings--"Not a fever, I think. Pliny, I hardly
know what it is--the doctor in attendance seems equally ignorant. Dr.
Arnold, if you will come with me, and these friends will wait a few
moments, perhaps I can bring them an encouraging report."

In this commotion only Dora kept white, silent lips, nerved herself as
best she could for whatever this night was to bring forth, and waited.
Theodore could not resist going over to her for an instant. She turned
quickly to him, and laid a small quivering hand on his arm--

"Mr. Mallery, I know _you_ will tell me _the truth_!"

"The _entire_ truth, Miss Dora, just as soon as I know it. I do not know
how much the danger is; yet, meantime, flee to the Strong for strength.
Will you come, Dr. Arnold?"

Pliny followed, and the three moved silently up to the quiet chamber.
Dr. Arnold stood quietly before the sleeper--felt his pulse, bent his
head and listened to the beating heart, touched with practiced fingers
the swollen veins in his temples, then stood up and turned toward the
waiting gentlemen.

"Well, doctor?" said Theodore, with nervous impatience, while Pliny
fairly held his breath to hear the answer; it came distinct and firm
from the doctor's lips--not harshly, but with terrible truthfulness:

"He is entirely beyond human aid, Mr. Mallery!"

Then the room seemed to Pliny suddenly to reel and pitch forward, and
both doctors were busy, not with the father, but the son.

What a fearful night it was! Pliny's shattered nervous system was not
strong enough to endure the shock. Mrs. Hastings went from one fainting
fit to another, with wild shrieks of anguish between--but all sound that
escaped Dora, when Theodore gently and tenderly told her "_the_ truth,"
was, "Oh, God, have mercy!" and the rest of that night she spent at her
father's bedside, on her knees.

It was high noon before his heavy slumber changed to that unending
sleep, but the change came--without word or sound or the quiver of a
muscle--suddenly, touched by its Maker's hand, the busy heart _stopped_.

"Can you get through the rest of this fearful scene without me?" Dr.
Arnold asked in the afternoon when all was over. "I must go home. I have
had three telegrams this morning. Dr. Armitage is ill again, and his
wife has sent for me. I will try to make all arrangements for you in the
city, if you think you can get alo