"Why Jeff-Jack Ravenel," exclaimed Fannie, with a careworn laugh, "what are you talking about?" "Not much fun for John," was the languishing reply, "but big favor to us." "But, my goodness!" said the bride, "the doctor won't even let you get up." "Got to," responded the smiling invalid. "Got to be in Washington next Sunday." "That's simply ridiculous," laughed Fannie, with a pretty toss, and sauntered into the next room, closing the door between. The sick man's smile increased: "She's going in there to cry," he softly drawled. "You can't go, Ravenel," said March. "Why, it'll kill you, like as not." "Got to go, John. Politics." "Oh, the other fellows can work it without you." "Yes," replied the smiling lips, "that's why I've got to be there." The subject was dropped. That was Tuesday morning. John called twice a clay until Thursday evening. Each time he came Fannie seemed more and more wan and blighted, though never less courageous. "She'll be sick herself if she doesn't hire a nurse and get some rest," said the doctor to John; but her idea of a hired nurse was Southern, and she would not hear of it. John was not feeling too honest these days. On the evening of Thursday he came nerved up to mention Miss Garnet, whom, as a theme, he had wholly avoided whenever Fannie had spoken of her. But the moment he met Fannie, in the outer room, he was so cut to the heart to see how her bridal beauty had wasted with her strength that he could only beg her to lie down an hour, two, three, half the night, the whole of it, while he would watch and tend in her place. He would take it unkindly if she did not. "Oh, John," she laughingly replied, "you forget!" He faintly frowned. "Yes, Miss Fannie, I try to." He did not add that he had procured assistance. Her response was a gleam of loving approval. John noticed seven or eight minute spots on her face and recognized for the first time in his life that they were freckles. "John, did the doctor tell you it was my fault that Jeff-Jack got this sickness?" "No, and I shouldn't have believed it if he had." "Thank you, John"--her lifted eyes filled--"thank you; but it was; it was my fault, and nobody shall watch him in my place." It would have made a difference to several besides herself, had she known that the doctor on both his last two visits had forgotten to say that no one need any longer sit up all night. John called again Friday morning. School himself as best he could, still an energy in his mien showed there was news from Suez. "What is it, old man," asked the slow-voiced invalid, "have they made the new slate?" "Yes, and the bill's passed empowering the three counties to levy the tax and take the stock. Oh, Garnet's a wheel-horse, yes, sir-ee!--and Gamble and Bulger are a team! Bulger isn't coming back for a while at all; they've made him secretary." A perceptible shade came over Ravenel's face, although he smiled as he said,