; I don't want to die. I'm not
prepared."

He was growing terribly excited now, and Aunt Eunice hailed the coming
of the doctor with delight. Hugh knew him, offering his pulse and
putting out his tongue of his own accord. The doctor counted the rapid
pulse, numbering even then 130 per minute, noted the rolling eyeballs
and the dilation of the pupils, felt the fierce throbbing of the swollen
veins upon the temple, and then gravely shook his head. Half conscious,
half delirious, Hugh watched him nervously, until the great fear at his
heart found utterance in words.

"Must I die?"

"We hope not. We'll do what we can to save you. Don't think of dying, my
boy," was the physician's reply, as he turned to Aunt Eunice, and gave
out the medicine, which must be most carefully administered.

Too much agitated to know just what he said, Aunt Eunice listened, as
one who heard not, noticing which, the doctor said:

"You are not the right one to take these directions. Is there nobody
here less nervous than yourself? Who was that young lady standing by the
door when I came in? The one in white, I mean, with such a quantity of
curls?"

"Miss Johnson--our visitor. She can't do anything," Aunt Eunice replied,
trying to compose herself enough to know what she was doing.

But the doctor thought differently. Something of a physiognomist, he had
been struck with the expression of Alice's face, and felt sure that she
would be more efficient aid than Aunt Eunice herself. "I'll speak to
her," he said, stepping to the hall. But Alice was gone. She had stood
by the sickroom door long enough to hear Hugh's impassioned words
concerning his probable death--long enough to hear him ask that she
might pray for him; and then she stole away to where no ear, save that
of God, could hear the earnest prayer that Hugh Worthington might
live--or that dying, there might be given him a space in which to grasp
the faith, without which the grave is dark indeed.

Meantime, the Hugh for whom the prayer was made had fallen into a heavy
sleep, and Aunt Eunice noiselessly left the room, meeting in the hall
with Alice, who asked permission to go in and sit by him at least until
he awoke. Aunt Eunice consented, and with noiseless footsteps Alice
advanced into the darkened room, and after standing still for a moment
to assure herself that Hugh was really sleeping, stole softly to his
bedside and bent down to look at him, starting quickly at the strong
resemblanc