In half an hour the family physician arrived. After making a careful examination of his patient, he came out of the room and sought Major Fielding. “What do you think of her?” anxiously inquired the major. “Telegraph for her brother immediately,” answered the doctor. His orders were obeyed, and the same morning the message was flashed along the wires that was to bring Justin to the bedside of his beloved sister. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE DEATH WATCH. He came, with that disheartening fear, Which all who love beneath the sky Feel when they gaze on what is dear— The dreadful thought that it must die! That desolating thought which comes Into men’s happiest hours and homes, Whose melancholy boding flings Death’s shadow o’er the brightest things, Sicklies the maiden’s bloom, and spreads The grave beneath young lovers’ heads!—MOORE. By the agency of the powerful medicines administered, Erminie’s high excitement was calmed. The beautiful, tossing arms were stilled, and lay lightly resting on the coverlet. The fiery flush died out of her cheeks, the terrible light softened in her eyes, and her lovely face, now-white and motionless as marble, lay reposing in perfect peace upon her pillow. Elfie watched on one side of her bed, and Catherine on the other. Major Fielding and Captain Ethel forbore to go out, even for a walk. In their keen anxiety for the patient, and their earnest desire to render assistance should their services be required, they remained in the library, reading or pretending to read, but really listening and watching for every sound and sight that could suggest anything relative to the condition of Erminie. Dr. Burney came three times in the course of that day. Major Fielding and his daughter asked the physician many questions concerning the nature of the sufferer’s illness, and the chances of her recovery, and they received answers from him which were intended to be encouraging, but which were really depressing. Miss Rosenthal’s brain and nervous system were very much affected, he said. The disease was paroxysmal in its tendency. She was now composed, and if a reaction into fever and delirium could be prevented, she would do well. This was all the satisfaction they could get from her medical attendant. Ah, “if.” Every means, short of drugging her into the sleep of death with sedatives and opiates, were taken to prevent a relapse into her fearful frenzy. Elfie sat by the bed all night, and administered all the medicines with her own hands, and kept ice to the head and mustard to the feet and wrists of her patient. But all this was in vain, or attended with only a partial success. Towards midnight Erminie’s cheeks and lips began to flush; she moved restlessly, and muttered in her sleep.