room is certainly too warm. Turn off the register-quick!"

I shut it off, glancing at the thermometer at the same time, and
wondering to myself if 70 was too warm for a sick child.

The coachman arrived from down-town now with the news that our physician
was ill and confined to his bed. Mrs. McWilliams turned a dead eye upon
me, and said in a dead voice:

"There is a Providence in it. It is foreordained. He never was sick
before. Never. We have not been living as we ought to live, Mortimer.
Time and time again I have told you so. Now you see the result. Our
child will never get well. Be thankful if you can forgive yourself; I
never can forgive myself."

I said, without intent to hurt, but with heedless choice of words, that I
could not see that we had been living such an abandoned life.

"Mortimer! Do you want to bring the judgment upon Baby, too!"

Then she began to cry, but suddenly exclaimed:

"The doctor must have sent medicines!"

I said:

"Certainly. They are here. I was only waiting for you to give me a
chance."

"Well do give them to me! Don't you know that every moment is precious
now? But what was the use in sending medicines, when he knows that the
disease is incurable?"

I said that while there was life there was hope.

"Hope! Mortimer, you know no more what you are talking about than the
child unborn. If you would--As I live, the directions say give one
teaspoonful once an hour! Once an hour!--as if we had a whole year
before us to save the child in! Mortimer, please hurry. Give the poor
perishing thing a tablespoonful, and try to be quick!"

"Why, my dear, a tablespoonful might--"

"Don't drive me frantic! . . . There, there, there, my precious, my
own; it's nasty bitter stuff, but it's good for Nelly--good for mother's
precious darling; and it will make her well. There, there, there, put
the little head on mamma's breast and go to sleep, and pretty soon--oh,
I know she can't live till morning! Mortimer, a tablespoonful every
half-hour will--Oh, the child needs belladonna, too; I know she does--and
aconite. Get them, Mortimer. Now do let me have my way. You know
nothing about these things."

We now went to bed, placing the crib close to my wife's pillow. All this
turmoil had worn upon me, and within two minutes I was something more
than half asleep. Mrs. McWilliams roused me:

"Darling, is that register turned on?"

"No."

"I thought as much. Please t