Maddy did not reply, but the great tears poured down her flushed cheeks, as she thought of her feeble old grandfather working on the road and shoveling snow to earn his bread; and the fever, which had seemed to be abating, returned with double force, and when next morning the doctor came, there was a look of deep anxiety upon his face as he watched the alarming symptoms of his delirious patient, who talked incessantly, not of the examination now, but of the mortgage and the foreclosure, begging him to see that the house was not sold; to tell them she was earning thirty-six dollars by teaching school; that _Beauty_ should be sold to save their dear old home. All this was strange at first to the doctor, but the rather voluble Mrs. Green, who had come to Grandma Markham’s relief, enlightened him, dwelling with a kind of malicious pleasure upon the fact that Maddy’s earnings, had she been permitted to get a “stifficut,” were to be appropriated toward paying the debt. If the doctor had hated himself the previous day when he rode from the red cottage gate, he hated himself doubly now as he went dashing down the road, determined to resign his office of school inspector that very day. And he did. Summoning around him those who had been most active in electing him, he refused to officiate again, assuring them that if any more candidates came he should either turn them from his door or give them a certificate without asking a question. “Put anybody you like in my place,” he said; “anybody but Guy Remington. Don’t, _for thunder’s sake_, take him.” There was no probability of this, as Guy lived in another town, and could not have officiated had he wished. But the doctor was too much excited to reason clearly about anything, save Madeline Clyde’s case; and during the next few weeks his other patients waited many times in vain for his coming, while he sat by Maddy’s side, watching every change, whether for the worse or better. Even Agnes Remington was totally neglected; and so one day she sent Guy to Devonshire to say that as _Jessie_ seemed more than usually delicate, she wished the doctor to take her under his charge and visit her at least once a week. The doctor was not at home, but Tom said he expected him every moment. So, seating himself in the arm-chair, Guy waited until he came. “Well, Hal,” he began, jocosely, but the joking words he would have uttered next died on his lips as he noticed the strange look of excitement and anxiety on the doctor’s face. “What is it?” he asked. “Are all your patients dead?”