nd then softly on the forehead.

"What do you think, Floyd," he said to me in a thick, unnatural
voice--"what do you think of the way my only grandchild treats me? She
despises me."

"No, no, grandpa! I love you dearly."

He went on with vehemence: "A few years ago I was living among the
finest ladies and gentlemen in the world: I was admired and sought. I
have been called the most accomplished of hosts, the most perfect of
gentlemen. Look about this house. Where in this entire country will
you find a more liberal patron of the arts than I? Yet this little
girl treats me like a servant. For a year she has not permitted me to
have even a few friends to dine with me. Because to-day I extended
hospitality to half a dozen gentlemen who drove over from the Point,
she fumes at me: she treats me as if I had committed a deadly sin.--By
and by, Miss Floyd, you can have it all your own way here: I shall be
dead."

She never flinched, nor did her face change as he glared at her, but
she went on smoothing his hair and softly putting her lips to his
temples. "Dear grandpa," said she, "come into the library now. It is
getting late, and Mills wants to set the table for dinner."

"Very well," he exclaimed with a sort of petulant dignity, and,
pushing back his chair, half rose. Helen gave me a swift glance, and
with our united strength we barely kept him from falling on his face.
He staggered to his feet, looking at us angrily, and not releasing
our hold we steadied him into the library and seated him in the great
chair before the fire. He sank down with some inaudible exclamation
not unlike a groan, and in five minutes he had fallen asleep with loud
breathings. Helen rang the bell and told Mills to send for Dr. Sharpe,
then came back and drew two low seats opposite the sleeper, and we sat
down together hand in hand. She was as pale as death, and her great
eyes dilated as she gazed steadily at her grandfather. From time
to time she felt his pulse and looked with painful scrutiny at the
temples and forehead, which grew every moment more and more crimson.
The half hour before the doctor came appeared to me endless. Inside it
was almost dark but for the firelight, and outside the twilight glooms
slowly gathered: a storm was coming on, and the waves bellowed against
the rocks. Mills lit the candles and drew the curtains, but could
not shut out the roar of the angry sea. I could see that Helen was
miserably anxious, but she said nothin