"Ye needn't be afraid to take yer medicine," said Mamma to her patient, coming to the bedside with a dose of the aforesaid "drops." "'Tain't no part of my plans to let ye die. I intend to nurse ye through, but I tell ye plain that when ye're better ye'll have to settle this business with Franzy. When ye're on yer feet agin, I'm goin' to wash my hands of ye. But ye may not find Franz so easily got rid of, mind that." Realizing her helplessness, Leslie swallowed the drops and then lay back, pale and panting, upon her pillow. As the moments passed, she could feel the liquid coursing its way through her veins; her nerves ceased to quiver, a strange calm crept over her, her pulses throbbed quite steadily. She was very weak, but found herself able to think clearly. Half an hour later, Doctor Bayless appeared upon the Francoise threshold, a small vial in his hand, a look of anxiety upon his countenance. He pushed his way into the room, in spite of the less than half opened door, and Mamma's lukewarm welcome. He seemed to notice neither. Still less did he concern himself with Papa and Franz, partaking of luncheon in the opposite corner of the room. He addressed Mamma almost breathlessly. Had the drops been administered? Mamma replied in the affirmative. Then he must see the patient at once. There had been a dangerous mistake. By some inadvertence he had exchanged two similar vials; he had given Mamma the wrong medicine. The result _might_ prove fatal. It was no time for parley or hesitation. Mamma promptly led the way to the inner room. As Leslie greeted her visitor with a look of inquiry, Doctor Bayless, standing by the bedside, with his back to Mamma, put a warning forefinger upon his lips, his eyes meeting Leslie's with a glance full of meaning. "Keep perfectly quiet, young woman," he said in his best professional tone. And as Mamma presented a chair, he seated himself close beside the bed and bent over his patient, seemingly intent upon her symptoms. Presently he turned toward Mamma. "I must have warm water; prepare it at once." Then rising, he followed Mamma to the door, saying in a low tone: "Your patient must have perfect quiet; let there be no loud noise about the house. Now the water, if you please, and make haste." He turned and went back to the bedside, seated himself as before, and taking one of the patient's hands, seemed intently marking every pulse-beat. A look of deep concern rested upon his face; and Mamma closed the door softly and went about her task. "Old un," began Franz, "ye're gittin' careless--" "Sh!" whispered Mamma; "no noise." But Franz, with a crafty leer, left his place at the table and tiptoed to the door, where he crouched, applying alternately his eye and his ear to the keyhole, while Mamma busied herself at the fire.