"She only returned from the country this afternoon," explained Hepsey. He went back to the bedside, re-examined the pulse of his patient, listened to her incoherent mutterings, and then said gravely, "She has symptoms of a contagious fever. I have had a few cases already among the poor." "James has just returned from an errand to one of her protégés, a mission boy. He had just been buried, and a flag was hung from the window to prevent people from entering." "Well, if people will go round to these filthy haunts, they,— but it's no use to think of that now. I'll do my best to save her. I'll have a flag out here, unless you will promise that no one shall come in: perfect quiet is a necessity." Hepsey promised, but the next morning, after a short absence from the room, she found a young lady sitting by the bed, bathing the hot temples of the sufferer. "I have come to stay," she said softly, as she rose and beckoned Hepsey into the hall. "Mrs. Mitchell told me last night how ill she is, and I have come prepared to act as nurse. You will let me help you"; and the young girl gazed wistfully in Hepsey's face. It was Annie Leman, a favorite protégé of Marion, whom she was educating for a music teacher, and, looking in her earnest face, Hepsey had not the heart to deny her request. "We'll see what the doctor will say," she murmured, and then they both returned to the room. What the doctor said at first sight of this girlish figure was, "I won't have her here." What he said after the second day was, "What could we do without her?" And so the sun rose and set while in that quiet room the fever raged, for Marion had been in the full vigor of health, and the heated blood rushed rampant through her body. Sometimes she tried to spring from the bed, calling out,— "I must find it," or "Here it is," and laughed aloud for joy. At other times she lay for hours in a heavy stupor, while rich and poor besieged the door with inquiries concerning her. Among others who came was Dr. Moore. He had safely conveyed Mary Falkner to the Home for the Sick, where he learned from Dr. B— that Miss Howard was dangerously ill, and went at once to her house to learn who was her physician, when they came together to see her. Marion woke suddenly, to find her old friend from N— bending over her. A momentary consciousness caused her to call him by name, and then, associating him at once with her friends in Grantbury, she said,— "Tell him there is hope," then fell back into heavy sleep. Every morning came a bunch of cut flowers of the choicest varieties from Mr. Lambert, with a request to Mrs. Mitchell to be informed whether "any change had taken place in Miss Howard."