been ordered to convey the barber to his home,
and he insisted that it should be used for that purpose. Andre was his
patient, and he would not permit any further delay. Elinora pouted and
flouted, and hopped back into her chamber.

Andre was borne carefully down the stairs, and placed in the carriage.
Maggie and the doctor entered the vehicle with him, and they were
driven to the barber's own home, where he was placed upon his bed in
the front room.

CHAPTER VIII.

MAKE OR BREAK.

Maggie plied the kind-hearted physician with questions in regard to her
father's condition--with questions which no man with merely human
knowledge could answer. He thought Andre would be able to talk to her
by the next day; but he feared the patient would not be well enough to
resume his place in the shop for weeks, and perhaps months.

Andre appeared to be quite comfortable, and did not seem to be
suffering very severely. The doctor had given him some medicine before
he was removed from the banker's house, and the sick man went to sleep
soon after he was put to bed in his own room. Dr. Fisher then went out
into the rear room, and told Maggie that her father would probably
sleep for several hours.

"I will come again in the morning, Maggie," said he. "Is there anything
I can do for you?"

"Nothing more, I thank you, sir," replied she. "I am very grateful to
you for what you have done."

"I know nothing about your father's circumstances; but if you need any
assistance, I hope you will make it known."

"Thank you, sir; I don't think we need anything," replied Maggie, a
slight blush mantling her pretty face; for the idea of asking or
accepting charity was painful to her.

"I fear it will be a long time before your father will be able to work
again," continued Dr. Fisher, glancing around the room to ascertain, if
possible, whether the singular family were in poverty or in plenty.

"I will take good care of him, whether it be for weeks or for months,
or even for years. You don't know how sorry I am to have poor _mon
pere_ sick; but you can't think what a pleasure it is to me to have
an opportunity to do something for him. I wish I could tell you how
good and kind he has always been to me; how tenderly he watched over me
when I was sick; how lovingly he prayed for me; but I cannot, though it
makes me happy to think I can now do something for him."

"You are a good girl, Maggie, and I don't see how Andre could have done
any