Mrs. Arlington repudiated the notion, and protested against such an assumption, saying "that Miss Leicester appeared quite well when she retired to rest." "These things do not happen without cause, madam," returned the doctor; "therefore in all probability something has occurred of which you know nothing." "I am convinced that you are mistaken, Dr. Heathfield; but I will take care that your orders are strictly attended to. No one but myself and Norris shall be allowed in the room. You have no doubt of her ultimate recovery, I trust," she added. "I couldn't pretend to give an opinion at present; I can only tell you that she is in a most precarious state," he replied gravely. "Everything depends upon the prevention of the hemorrhage, a return of which would be certain death. At the same time, that is not all that we have to fear." For a long time Isabel hovered between life and death, scarcely conscious of what was passing around her. Day after day the children would linger on the stairs, whenever the doctor came, to hear his account of Miss Leicester. But he only shook his head, and said "he could not have them there. Their governess was very ill, and they must be very good children." Then they would return to the school-room, and spend, as best they might, these joyless holidays. At last the longed for answer came--"She was certainly better," and they were delighted beyond measure; but their joy was considerably damped, when he told them that they could not be permitted to see her for some time yet.