"Has it?" she answered indifferently. Then, with an impatience that could hardly wait, "How is it, doctor? Is it any lower?" "I'll wager she has forgotten already what I said to her," the doctor communed with himself. "Women are all alike. They can manage the affairs of the nation or the universe until their children get sick, and then--it's all up! Well, I guess that's the way the Lord meant 'em to be." One afternoon the doctor called the nurse into the adjoining room and talked with her in low tones. When he came back he said cheerfully, "I believe I will stay at Elmhurst to-night, Mrs. De Jarnette. I think he is going to be better, but we will know by midnight." Margaret gripped the side of the bed. The doctor does not usually stay when the patient is better. Suspense was in the air after that. Word was passed to the cabin that the crisis had come, and Uncle Tobe and his wife and Mammy Cely were having a prayer-meeting there. At nine o'clock Philip was sleeping quietly and the doctor who had been up the night before went to bed. "Call me if there is any change," he said to the nurse, "and at twelve whether there is or not." He advised Margaret to do the same, but she shook her head. "Mr. De Jarnette," the nurse said in a low tone. "Hadn't you better lie down now. You may be needed later." "No," he said, briefly. "It really isn't necessary," said Margaret. "I prefer to stay." She did not combat it. In her heart she was glad to have him there. Through the long hours they sat thus, one on each side of Philip's bed. The nurse watching them could not but think how strange it all was. Midnight and the doctor brought them hope. "He is doing finely, nurse,--I couldn't ask anything better." Then to Margaret, who stood beside him, he said feelingly, ignoring Mr. De Jarnette, "God is more merciful than man, my child. He has given you back your--why, my dear!"--for Margaret was clinging to him weak and nerveless, her head on his fatherly shoulder--"there! there!--here, nurse, look after her. She is all unstrung." "It is sleep she needs," the nurse said, "and no wonder." And Margaret allowed herself to be led away. "It beats everything the way these women do," grumbled the doctor. "You think they are wrought-iron till the danger is past, and then you find they are a bundle of nerves after all. I stumbled over that old negro woman of yours at the door--waiting for news, I suppose." Mr. De Jarnette went to the door. "Name er God, Marse Richard, how is he? I didn't dast to speak when I saw 'em takin' Miss Margaret off." "Go to bed," said Richard, kindly. "The danger is past, the doctor says." "We may as well go to bed and leave him to the nurse now," said the doctor, just behind him. "I shall stay for awhile. Good-night, doctor."