ng her voice to a pitch
that brought both of the sisters quickly to her side. "Matilda, go at
once and fetch the doctor. See, this child is ill, her cheeks are
burning scarlet and her eyes are like stars."

At that opportune moment they espied the doctor's carriage proceeding
leisurely along the road.

"Dear me, how lucky," cried Ruth, "Doctor West should happen along
just now. Go to the gate, quick, Matilda, and ask him to stop."

The keen eyes of the doctor, however, had observed the figure lying on
the grass and the frantic movements of the three old ladies bending
over it, and drew rein of his own accord to see what was the matter.

He drew back with a cry of surprise as his eyes rested on the
beautiful flushed face of the young girl lying among the blue
harebells at his feet.

"I am afraid this is a serious case," he said, thoughtfully, placing
his cool hand on her burning forehead; "the child has all the symptoms
of brain fever in its worst form, brought on probably through some
great excitement." The three ladies looked at one another meaningly.
"She must be taken into the house and put to bed at once," he
continued, authoritatively, lifting the slight figure in his strong
arms, and gazing pityingly down upon the beautiful flushed face framed
in its sheen of golden hair resting against his broad shoulders.

The doctor was young and unmarried and impressible; and the strangest
sensation he had ever experienced thrilled through his heart as the
blue, flaring eyes met his and the trembling red lips incoherently
beseeched him to save her, hide her somewhere, anywhere, before the
fifteen minutes were up.

A low muttered curse burst from Stanwick's lips upon his return, as he
took in the situation at a single glance.

As Daisy's eyes fell upon Stanwick's face she uttered a piteous little
cry:

"Save me from him--save me!" she said, hysterically, growing rapidly
so alarmingly worse that Stanwick was forced to leave the room,
motioning the doctor to follow him into the hall.

"The young lady is my wife," he said, with unflinching assurance,
uttering the cruel falsehood, "and we intend leaving Elmwood to-day. I
am in an uncomfortable dilemma. I must go, yet I can not leave my--my
wife. She must be removed, doctor; can you not help me to arrange it
in some way?"

"No, sir," cried the doctor, emphatically; "she can not be removed. As
her physician, I certainly would not give my consent to such a
proceeding; h