must walk or fall down! And
she could not fall down, no! no! no! he would die if she fell down!
Once a figure loomed up in the haze, and she caught the glimmer of an
inquisitive eye. "Say," a man's voice said, "where are you bound for?"
There was something in the tone that gave her a stab of fright; for a
minute or two her feet seemed to fly, and she heard a laugh behind her
in the darkness: "What's your hurry?" the voice called after her. And
still she ran. But she was saying to herself that she must STOP; she
must stand still just for a moment. "Oh, just for a minute?" her body
whimperingly entreated; she would not listen to it! She must not
listen, even though her heart burst with the strain. But her body had
its way, and she fell into a walk, although she was not aware of it.
In a gasping whisper she was saying, over and over: "Doctor, hurry;
he'll die; hurry; I killed him." She tried to be silent, but her lips
moved mechanically. "Doctor, hurry; he'll--Oh, I MUSTN'T talk!" she
told herself, "it takes my breath"--but still her lips moved. She began
to run, heavily. "I can't talk--if--I--run--" It was then that she
saw a glimmer of light and knew that she was almost in Old Chester.
Very likely she would have fallen if she had not seen that far-off
window just when she did.

At William King's house she dropped against the door, her fingers still
clinging to the bell. She was past speaking when the doctor lifted her
and carried her into the office. "No; don't try to tell me what it
is," he said; "I'll put Jinny into the buggy, and we'll get back in a
jiffy. I understand; Hannah is worse."

"Not... Hannah--"

"Your father?" he said, picking up his medicine-case.

"Not father; Mr.--Fenn--"

As the doctor hurried out to the stable to hitch up he bade his wife
put certain remedies into his bag,--"and look after that child," he
called over his shoulder to his efficient Martha. She was so efficient
that when he had brought Jinny and the buggy to the door, Philly was
able to gasp out that Mr. Fenn was sick. "Dying."

"Don't try to talk," he said again, as he helped her into the buggy.
But after a while she was able to tell him, hoarsely:

"I wanted him to love me." William King was silent. "I used a charm.
It was wicked."

"Come, come; not wicked," said the doctor; "a little foolish, perhaps.
A new frock, and a rose in your hair, and a smile at another man, would
be enough of a charm, my dear."

Ph