“Oh, dear! Susan is out, and your father will need assistance,” said Mrs. Fairland; “but really, these scenes have such an effect upon my nerves, that I find it necessary to avoid them altogether.” “And so do I,” said Miss Calista, “indeed I always suffer with a severe headache after them.” “And they are so utterly disagreeable to me, to to be more candid than either of you,” said Miss Evelina, “that I always keep as far out of the way as possible.” “Can I be of any use?” asked Agnes, partly rising and looking towards Mrs. Fairland. She would have followed poor Tiney and her father immediately, but did not wish to appear to pry into that of which nothing had been mentioned to her, and of which they might not like to speak out of their own family. “Oh, do go, Miss Elwyn, if you have the _nerve,”_ said Mrs. Fairland. The reader knows enough of Agnes to feel assured that her _nerves_ were never in the way, if opportunity offered to make herself useful to the suffering; and the moment Mrs. Fairland answered her, she left the room, and, guided by those still piercing shrieks, she passed through a long hall, and entered a small bath-room, where she found Mr. Fairland holding the struggling Tiney, who presented a shocking appearance. Her face was now quite purple, and the white froth stood about her mouth; and her father was holding both of her hands in one of his, to quiet her frantic struggles. “Oh, bless you, Miss Agnes!” said Mr. Fairland, as soon as she opened the door; “set that water running immediately till it is quite hot, and take off this poor child’s stockings and shoes. You see I can do nothing.” As quickly and as quietly as possible Agnes did as she was directed; and then also, by Mr. Fairland’s direction, took down a bottle of medicine, always kept ready for this purpose in the bath-room, and dropped some of it for him. In a few moments, the shrieks subsided to moans, as Tiney lay with her head back on her father’s shoulder. “Poor child!” said Mr. Fairland, wiping her lips and forehead, “she is a dreadful sufferer.” “Has she been so long?” asked Agnes. “Ever since her third year,” answered Mr. Fairland, “though, at first, the attacks were comparatively slight; but of late years they have grown more and more severe. Her intellect, as you perhaps have already noticed, is much weakened by them, and her temper, naturally very sweet, is at times almost fiendish. It seems to be her great desire, while suffering so intensely, to injure all within her reach.” Agnes now understood the reason of the screams of the children, and also of the pinch she had received as Tiney passed her chair. When poor Tiney’s moans had become more faint, Mr. Fairland said: “Agnes, will you sing? Music seems to soothe her more than anything else, after the extreme suffering is over.”