"Something saved her. It must have been the medicine," replied Mrs. Bays, partly unconscious of Billy's irony. She was one of the many millions who always accept the current humbug in whatever form he comes. Let us not, however, speak lightly of the humble humbug. Have you ever considered how empty this world would be without his cheering presence? You notice I give the noun "humbug" the masculine gender. The feminine members of our race have faults, but great, monumental, world-pervading humbugs are masculine, one and all, from the old-time witch doctor and Druid priest down to the--but Mrs. Bays was speaking:-- "The doctors worked with her for four hours last night, and when they left she was almost dead." "Almost?" interrupted Billy. "Fortunate girl!" "I hope I may see her," asked Dic, timidly. "No, you can't," replied Mrs. Bays with firmness. "She's in bed, and I _hardly_ think it would be the proper thing." "Dic!" called a weak little voice from the box stairway leading from the room above. "Dic!" And that young man sprang to the stairway door with evident intent to mount. Mrs. Bays hurried after him, crying:-- "You shall not go up there. She's in bed, I tell you. You can't see her." Billy rose to his feet and stood behind her. When Dic stopped, at the command of Mrs. Bays, Billy made an impatient gesture and pointed to the room above, emphasizing the movement with a look that plainly said, "Go on, you fool," and Dic went. Mrs. Bays turned quickly upon Billy, but his pale countenance was as expressionless as usual, and he was examining his finger tips with such care one might have supposed them to be rare natural curiosities. "Ah, Dic," cried the same little voice from the bed, when that young man entered the room, and two white arms, from which the sleeves had fallen back, were held out to him as the pearly gates might open to a wandering soul. Dic knelt by the bedside, and the white arms entwined themselves about his neck. He spoke to her rapturously, and placed his cool cheek against her feverish face. Then the room grew dark to the girl, her eyes closed, and she fainted. Dic thought she was dead, and in an agony of alarm placed his ear to her heart, hoping to hear its beating. No human motive could have been purer than Dic's. Of that fact I know you are sure, else I have written of him in vain; but when Mrs. Bays entered the room and saw him, she was pleased to cry out:-- "Help! help! he has insulted my daughter." Billy mounted the stairway in three jumps, a feat he had not performed in twenty years, and when he entered the room Mrs. Bays pointed majestically to the man kneeling by Rita's bed. "Take that man from my house, Mr. Little," cried Mrs. Bays in a sepulchral, judicial tone of voice. "He broke into her room and insulted my sick daughter when she was unconscious."