The next two hours that passed were never effaced from Queenie's memory. No efforts of theirs could rouse the child from the death-like stupor that oppressed her. Langley had tried two or three remedies, but they were unavailing, and the father's agony was pitiable to witness. The little town was fairly roused, and messengers on horseback were scouring the neighbourhood after Dr. Stewart. But he had gone to a farmhouse some five miles distant, and delay was inevitable. Garth and Ted had each gone in different directions, and Faith Palmer had driven over to Karldale to tell Mrs. Chester the reason of her husband's long absence. It was just before Dr. Stewart's arrival that Langley, examining the child's clothes, found some dark crimson stains on the front of the little white frock, and showed them to the doctor, as he stood with a grave face looking down at the child. A very brief survey had satisfied him. "Humph! it is just as I feared when young Clayton told me the symptoms. She has been eating deadly night-shade. Children sometimes mistake them for currants. Why was she allowed to run about without her nurse?" "She had the girl with her," returned the poor father, and here he uttered a strong expletive; but Langley laid her hand on his arm and said Hush! "What can you do to wake her, Dr. Stewart?" "Nothing," returned the doctor sadly. "An hour or two sooner and I could have saved her. But, my good sir, these things are not in our hands. It is neither your fault nor mine that I was not here." "You can do nothing!" turning upon him almost fiercely in his despair, as though he would wrest the child's life from him by force. "Nothing," he repeated emphatically, for it was best that the miserable father should realize the truth at once, and not cling to the shadow of a hope. "The child is sleeping herself to death; in a few hours it must all be over." "Try to bear it, Harry," said Langley, in her low, soothing voice, for the strong man absolutely staggered under the blow. Her face was almost as white as his as she guided him to a chair, but he turned from her with a groan and hid his face in the child's pillow. "I will come again; there is nothing for me to do here," said Dr. Stewart. His voice was rough, probably with emotion, as he turned away abruptly. "An hour or two earlier and I could have saved her," he said to Queenie as she followed him down-stairs. "It goes hard with a man to know that, and that he can do absolutely nothing; just because my mare wanted shoeing, and I went out of the beaten track. There is another life gone, that is what I call a mystery," and Dr. Stewart muttered his favorite "humph!" and went away with a sorrowful face, for he was soft-hearted, and loved all children for their own sweet sakes. There was literally nothing to be done after this. Garth came in by-and-bye and paid a short visit to the room up-stairs, but he did not stay long.