at I will
come back just as quickly as I can."

He went quickly out, and Virgie stole softly into her father's chamber, to
do what she could for him, and her heart began to gather something of hope
and courage when a few minutes later she heard the clatter of a horse's
hoofs outside, and knew that her lover was on the way for help.

Sir William did not spare his horse until he reached the station.

A telegram was sent and before long a reply was received saying that a
physician would leave Virginia City upon the next train coming that way.

But several hours must elapse before he could arrive, and Sir William was
brought up to the highest pitch of anxiety and impatience during the
interval, while to Virgie, anxiously watching and waiting by the bedside
of her father, they were the longest that she had ever known.

But she followed Sir William's directions regarding administering the
brandy, and she could see that after a few potions the invalid began to
rally somewhat.

Just as the sun was going down Sir William and the doctor arrived, and
then the young girl felt as if a mountain had rolled from her shoulders.

They remained all night watching with the patient, insisting that Virgie
should go to her rest, and worn out with her day of watching and anxiety,
she crept away to bed and slept the sleep of exhaustion.

In the morning Mr. Abbot seemed considerably stronger and better, and
Virgie's loving heart began to take courage again and to hope that he was
not really so very ill after all.

But these feelings received a sudden shock, when, after breakfast, her
lover drew her into the little parlor, his face very grave, yet full of
tenderness for her.

"I have something that I wish to say to you, Virgie--something to ask
you," he said; "but, remember, that you are to answer me frankly and
truly. You are not to be unduly influenced by my--by any one's wishes--to
consent to what might seem premature, and thus repugnant to you."

Virgie looked up at him questioningly, growing pale, and a thrill of fear
shooting through her heart.

"Your father feels," Sir William went on, answering her look, "as if he
would like to--to have your future settled before--his strength fails him
any further."

"Oh!" cried the young girl, clinging to her lover, a wild look in her
eyes, "papa is not going to--die! Do not tell me that. He is better
to-day, and he will--he must grow yet stronger."

"My darling," said Sir William, holdi