each day Grandma Nichols visited Mabel's room, always
prescribing some new tea of herbs, whose healing qualities were
wonderful, having effected cures in every member of Nancy Scovandyke's
family, that lady herself, as a matter of course, being first included.
And Aunt Milly, with the faithfulness characteristic of her race, would
seek out each new herb, uniting with it her own simple prayer that it
might have the desired effect. But all in vain, for every day Mabel
became weaker, while her dark eyes grew larger and brighter, anon
lighting up with joy as she heard her husband's footsteps in the hall,
and again filling with tears as she glanced timidly into his face, and
thought of the dread reality.

"Maybe I shall die," was more than once murmured in her sleep, and John
Jr., as often as he heard those words, would press her burning hands,
and mentally reply, "Poor little Meb."

And all this time no one thought to call a physician, until Mr.
Livingstone himself at last suggested it. At first he had felt no
interest whatever in his daughter-in-law, but with him force of habit
was everything, and when she no longer came among them, he missed
her--missed her languid steps upon the stairs and her childish voice in
the parlor. At last it one day occurred to him to visit her. She was
sleeping when he entered the room, but he could see there had been a
fearful change since last he looked upon her, and without a word
concerning his intentions, he walked to the kitchen, ordering one of
his servants to start forthwith for the physician, whose residence was
a few miles distant.

Mrs. Livingstone was in the front parlor when he returned, in company
with Doctor Gordon, and immediately her avaricious spirit asked who
would pay the bill, and why was he sent for. Mabel did not need
him--she was only babyish and spleeny--and so she told the physician,
who, however, did not agree with her. He did not say that Mabel would
die, but he thought so, for his experienced eye saw in her infallible
signs of the disease which had stricken down both her parents, and to
which, from her birth, she had been a prey. Mabel guessed as much from
his manner, and when again he visited her, she asked him plainly what
he thought.

She was young--a bride--surrounded apparently by everything which could
make her happy, and the physician hesitated, answering her evasively,
until she said, "Do not fear to tell me truly, for I want to die. Oh,
I long