“An acute attack of her old disease, brought on apparently by some great shock.” “Is she in imminent danger?” “Hush--sh!” said the physician, glancing toward his patient. Nellie followed that glance, and saw that Mrs. Helmstedt’s eyes were open, and that she was attending to their conversation. “Oh, Marguerite! dear Marguerite! what is this?” cried Mrs. Houston, bending over her friend and dropping tears and kisses on her deathlike brow. “Nothing unusual, Nellie; only the ‘one event’ that ‘happeneth to all;’ only death. Though in truth, it is inconvenient to die just now, Nellie; this morning I had no reason to expect the messenger; and to say truth, I was in no respect ready.” “Marguerite! dear Marguerite! let me send for the minister,” said Nellie, wringing her hands and dropping fast tears. “No; what good can the minister do me, think you? No, Nellie; that is not what I meant. If I have lived all my days for the pride of life and the affections of the flesh, at least I will not mock God now with the offer of a heart that these idols have ground to dust. As I have lived, will I die, without adding fear and self-deception to the catalogue of my follies.” Mrs. Helmstedt spoke faintly and at intervals, and now she paused longer than usual, and, gathering breath, resumed: “But since this summons has found me unready, in other respects which may be remedied, I must use the hours left for action. Nellie, Nellie; this is no time for useless tears,” she added, seeing Mrs. Houston weeping vehemently; “you must aid me. Dr. Hartley, will you grant me a few moments alone with my friend?” “Not unless you both promise that your interview is not to be exciting or exhausting.” “We promise, doctor, that on the contrary, it shall be soothing. Margaret, my child, attend the doctor down into the parlor, and see that refreshments are placed before him.” Pale and still and self-governed, the young maiden followed the physician from the chamber. And the friends were left alone. “Colonel Houston got a letter from my husband yesterday?” inquired Mrs. Helmstedt. “He got it this morning, dear Marguerite.” “I received one from my husband last night; he spoke of one mailed at the same time to Colonel Houston; he consents to the betrothal of Margaret to Ralph, or rather, he refers the matter to me, which amounts to the same thing. Nellie, I have but a few hours to live; before I die I wish to place the hand of my child in that of Ralph in solemn betrothal; and, when I rest in the grave, you will take my orphan child as your daughter home, and comfort her until her father, to whom Dr. Hartley has written, arrives. Oh, Nellie, be kind to my dove!” “Indeed I will! Oh, indeed I will, though I was disappointed for Franky! I will love her as tenderly as if she were my own. Don’t doubt me. You know I have always been a good stepmother?” “An excellent one, dear Nellie.”