clasped, and her eyes tearless now.

The doctor's step was heard upon the stairs, and he entered
breathlessly, and without a word crossed to the bed, to bend down over
the sufferer as he held his wrist.

The silence in that room was terrible to two of the inmates, and the
suspense seemed to be drawn out until it was almost more than could be
borne.

At last the doctor turned away, and sank exhausted in a chair; and as
Helen caught his hand in hers, and questioned him with her eyes, he said
in a low and reverent voice--

"Yes, Helen, our prayers have been heard. Poor fellow! he will live."

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

CONVALESCENCE.

"Get out," said Dan'l, some weeks later. "Tired? Why, I could pull
this here inv'lid-chair about the garden all day, my lad, and not know
it."

"But why not rest under one of the trees for a bit?" said Dexter.

"'Cause I don't want to rest; and if I did, it might give you a chill.
Why, you're light as light, and this is nothing to the big roller."

"I'm afraid I'm a great deal of trouble to you all," said Dexter, as he
sat back, supported by a pillow, and looking very white, while from time
to time he raised a bunch of Dan'l's choicest flowers to his nose.

"Trouble? Tchah! And, look here! master said you was to have as much
fruit as you liked. When'll you have another bunch o' grapes!"

"Oh, not yet," said Dexter smiling, and he looked at the grim face of
the old gardener, who walked slowly backwards as he drew the chair.

"Well, look here," said Dan'l, after a pause. "You can do as you like,
but you take my advice. Peter's gone 'most off his head since master
said as you might go out for a drive in a day or two; but don't you be
in no hurry. I can draw you about here, where it's all nice and warm
and sheltered, and what I say is this: if you can find a better place
for a inv'lid to get strong in than my garden, I should like to see it.
Humph! There's Missus Millett working her arms about like a mad
windmill. Got some more jelly or blammondge for you, I s'pose. Lookye
here, Master Dexter, just you pitch that sorter thing over, and take to
beef underdone with the gravy in it. That'll set you up better than
jelleries and slops."

Dan'l was right. Mrs Millett was waiting with a cup of calves'-feet
jelly; and Maria had brought out a rug, because it seemed to be turning
cold.

Two days later Dan'l was called away to visit a sick relative, and
Peter's face was red