a smile that was meant to say--"How absurd to think of
such a thing!" She was there to work, not to be treated as an invalid.
Stooping over the garment, she went on with her sewing. Mrs. Wykoff
looked at her very earnestly, and saw that her lips were growing
colorless; that she moved them in a nervous way, and swallowed every
now and then.

"Come, child," she said, in a firm tone, as she took Miss Carson by the
arm. "Put aside your work, and lie down on that sofa. You are sick."

She did not resist; but only said---

"Not sick, ma'am--only a little faint."

As her head went heavily down upon the pillow, Mrs. Wykoff saw a
sparkle of tears along the line of her closely shut eyelids.

"Now don't stir from there until I come back," said the kind lady, and
left the room. In a little while she returned, with a small waiter in
her hand, containing a goblet of wine sangaree and a biscuit.

"Take this, Mary. It will do you good."

The eyes which had not been unclosed since Mrs. Wykoff went out, were
all wet as Mary Carson opened them.

"Oh, you are so kind!" There was gratitude in her voice. Rising, she
took the wine, and drank of it like one athirst. Then taking it from
her lips, she sat, as if noting her sensations.

"It seems to put life into me," she said, with a pulse of cheerfulness
in her tones.

"Now eat this biscuit," and Mrs. Wykoff held the waiter near.

The wine drank and the biscuit eaten, a complete change in Miss Carson
was visible. The whiteness around her mouth gave place to a ruddier
tint; her face no longer wore an exhausted air; the glassy lustre of
her eyes was gone.

"I feel like myself again," she said, as she left the sofa, and resumed
her sewing chair.

"How is your side now?" asked Mrs. Wykoff.

"Easier. I scarcely perceive the pain."

"Hadn't you better lie still a while longer?"

"No, ma'am. I am all right now. A weak spell came over me. I didn't
sleep much last night, and that left me exhausted this morning, and
without any appetite."

"What kept you awake?"

"This dull pain in my side for a part of the time. Then I coughed a
good deal; and then I became wakeful and nervous."

"Does this often occur, Mary?"

"Well--yes, ma'am--pretty often of late."

"How often?"

"Two or three times a week."

"Can you trace it to any cause?"

"Not certainly."

"To cold?"

"No, ma'am."

"Fatigue?"

"More that than anything else, I think."

"And you didn't eat any breakfast th