h she took from her belt:
"Twelve o'clock, but the servants probably have not gone to bed."--She
rang the bell. "Mary," to a maid who entered, "tell the cook to make
some tea and send in cold chicken or beef--whatever is left from
dinner."

"I think the fire is out, Mrs. Pinckney," the servant hesitatingly
replied.

"Oh, no matter: let her get a few chips and make a fire: I _must_ have
my tea."--Doctor Harris rose. "Oh, doctor, don't go until you have
taken one more look at my darling."

The nursery was on the same floor. Mrs. Pinckney insisted on kissing
the child, much to the physician's annoyance. He checked her, and
carefully refrained from talking himself while in the room. As he was
taking leave at the front door she repeated, "Now, doctor, you're sure
I can be comfortable--that I can go to bed and go to sleep? Tell me
positively"--and she looked earnestly in his face--"that the child will
never have another convulsion."

He laughed, and bent an admiring tender, gaze on the pretty mother, who
stood appealingly before him: "My dear Mrs. Pinckney, I cannot swear
positively that Harry will never have another convulsion, particularly
if he is allowed to eat nuts and raisins _ad libitum_: however, with
ordinary care I don't think it at all probable."--"Is it possible," he
reflected as he drove home, "that I want to marry that woman, selfish
and inconsiderate as she is? Why, she would have let the governess, a
perfect stranger, sit up with the child if I hadn't interfered! She is
awfully pretty, though. I can't help liking her: then, her money would
be a comfortable addition to my professional emoluments."

Although the hot, strong tea was very grateful in her exhausted
condition, this, with the very excitements of the day, kept Miss
Featherstone awake the brief remainder of the night. She breakfasted
the following morning with the children and their tutor. To her great
surprise, little Harry, looking pale and wan, was at the table.

"Madame is too ill to rise," Mr. Brown announced in his very best
English, "and the bonne is attending her. Will this dear mees take the
head of the table and us oblige by pouring out the coffee?"

Miss Featherstone cheerfully acceded, and left her own breakfast
cooling while she coaxed and consoled the little invalid, who was quite
fretful after his last night's experiences. She was making an attempt
to eat something herself when Mrs. Pinckney sent for her, and, as there
was no on