ardly a word was spoken till they reached the lofty
mansion of the great man. With trembling hand Leo rang the bell; and
Maggie's slender frame quivered with apprehension while they waited for
a reply to the summons. Lawrence answered the bell more promptly than
when its call had disturbed him at his dinner.

"Is Andre Maggimore here?" asked Leo, timidly.

"Who?" demanded Lawrence.

"Andre Maggimore--the barber--the hair-dresser," replied Leo.

"You mane the man that had the fit," added the servant. "Indade, he's
here, thin."

"How is he?" asked Maggie, her heart bounding with fear lest she should
be told that her poor father was no more.

"He's a little better; but the docthor says it'll be a long day till he
is able to handle his razors again. What's this he called the disase?
The para-_ly_-sis! That's just what it is!"

"Poor _mon pere_!" sighed Maggie.

"We would like to see him, if you please," added Leo.

"And who be you? Are you his children?" asked Lawrence.

"We are."

"I'm sorry for you; but he's very bad," added Lawrence, who had an
Irish heart under his vest, as he closed the front door.

"Is he--will he--"

Poor Maggie could not ask the question she desired to ask, and she
covered her face and wept.

"No, he won't," replied Lawrence, tenderly. "He won't die. The docthor
says he's comin' out of it; but the para-_ly_-sis will bodther him for
a long time."

Maggie was comforted by this reply, and she followed Lawrence up stairs
to the chamber where Andre lay. He had been conveyed from Elinora's
dressing-room to an apartment in the L, over the dining-room, where the
banker and his friends smoked their cigars after dinner. He was lying
on a lounge, covered with blankets, and the housekeeper was attending
him.

"Poor _mon pere_!" exclaimed Maggie, as she threw herself on her knees
on the floor by the side of the sick man's couch, and kissed his pale,
thin face.

[Illustration: POOR MON PERE.--Page 84.]

Leo bent over his father's prostrate form, and clasped one of his silky
hands, which now felt so cold that the touch chilled his heart. The
doctor had just come in to pay his patient a second visit, and stood by
the lounge, regarding with interest the devotion of the boy and girl.

Andre had "come out" of the fit, and recognized his children, as he
always called them. He smiled faintly, and tried to return the pressure
of Leo's hand, and to kiss the lips of Maggie, pressed to his own; but