you back, where the
deadly viper had been coiled; in making you take that dark, solitary
walk in search of the sleeping Alice; and even last night I might have
spared you your lonely night watch, if I would. Had I told you that you
were too inexperienced and inefficient to be a good nurse, you would
have believed me and yielded your place, or at least shared it with
another. Do you still think me kind?"

"Most kind, even when most exacting," she replied. Whenever her feelings
were excited, her deep feelings of joy as well as sorrow, Helen's eyes
always glistened. This peculiarity gave a soft, pensive expression to
her countenance that was indescribably winning, and made her smile from
the effect of contrast enchantingly sweet.

The glistening eye and the enchanting smile that followed these words,
or rather accompanied them, were not altogether lost on Arthur.

Mrs. Gleason came to relieve Helen from the care of nursing, and
insisted upon her immediate return home. Helen obeyed with reluctance,
claiming the privilege of resuming her watch again at night. She wanted
to be with Miss Thusa in her last moments. She had a sublime curiosity
to witness the last strife of body and soul, the separation of the
visible and the invisible; but when night came on, exhausted nature
sought renovation in the deepest slumbers that had ever wrapped her.
Arthur, perceiving some change in his patient, resolved to remain with
her himself, having hired a woman to act as subordinate nurse during
Miss Thusa's sickness. She occupied the kitchen as bed-room--an
apartment running directly back of the sick chamber.

Miss Thusa's strength was slowly, gently wasting. Disease had struck her
at first like a sharp poignard, but life flowed away from the wound
without much after suffering. The greater part of the time she lay in a
comatose state, from which it was difficult to rouse her.

Arthur sat by the fire, with a book in his hand, which at times seemed
deeply to interest him, and at others, he dropped it in his lap, and
gazing intently into the glowing coals, appeared absorbed in the
mysteries of thought.

About midnight, when reverie had deepened into slumber, he was startled
by a low knock at the door. He had not fastened it as elaborately as
Helen had done, and quickly and noiselessly opening it, he demanded who
was there. It was a young boy, bearing him a note from the family he had
visited the preceding night. His patient was attacked w