disregard, led the doctor a staggering, scrambling, leaping course in
the midst of upturned tables and chairs, and, at last, ran the gasping
quarry to earth under the sofa. I was taken out by the heels,
shouldered, carried aloft and flung sprawling on my bed--while the whole
house rang again with peal upon peal of hearty laughter.

"Oh, zur," I groaned, "I never knowed you was so jolly!"

"Not so?"

"On my word, zur!"

He sighed.

"I fancied you was never but sad."

"Ah, well," said he, "the Labrador, Davy, is evidently working a cure."

"God be thanked for that!" said I, devoutly.

He rumpled my hair and went out. And I bade him send my sister with the
candle; and while I lay waiting in the dark a glow of content came upon
me--because of this: that whereas I had before felt woefully inadequate
to my sister's protection, however boastfully I had undertaken it, I was
now sure that in our new partnership her welfare and peace of heart were
to be accomplished. Then she came in and sat with me while I got ready
for bed. She had me say my prayers at her knee, as a matter of course,
but this night hinted that an additional petition for the doctor's
well-doing and happiness might not be out of place. She chided me, after
that, for the temper I had shown against Jagger and for the oath I had
flung at his head, as I knew she would--but did not chide me heartily,
because, as she said, she was for the moment too gratefully happy to
remember my short-comings against me. I thanked her, then, for this
indulgence, and told her that she might go to bed, for I was safely and
comfortably bestowed, as she could see, and ready for sleep; but she
would not go, and there sat, with the candle in her hand, her face
flushed and her great blue eyes soulfully glowing, while she continued
to chatter in an incoherent and strangely irrelevant fashion: so that,
astonished into broad wakefulness by this extraordinary behaviour, I sat
bolt upright in bed, determined to discover the cause.

"Bessie Roth," said I, severely, "what's come upon you?"

"I'm not knowin', Davy," she answered, softly, looking away.

"'Tis somewhat awful, then," said I, in alarm, "for you're not lookin'
me in the eye."

She looked then in her lap--and did not raise her eyes, though I waited:
which was very strange.

"You isn't sick, is you?"

"No-o," she answered, doubtfully.

"Oh, you _mustn't_ get sick," I protested. "'Twould _never_ do. I'd fair
die--if _yo