Her passion culminated in a shriek: she gasped, was convulsed from head to foot for a dreadful moment, tore at the bosom of her dress with rigid bent fingers, swayed; then collapsed all at once. Laura caught her, and got her upon the sofa. In the hall, Mrs. Madison could be heard running and screaming to Hedrick to go for the doctor. Next instant, she burst into the room with brandy and camphor. "I could only find these; the ammonia bottle's empty," she panted; and the miserable father started hatless, for the drug-store, a faint, choked wail from the stricken girl sounding in his ears: "It's--it's my heart, mamma." It was four blocks to the nearest pharmacy; he made what haste he could in the great heat, but to himself he seemed double his usual weight; and the more he tried to hurry, the less speed appeared obtainable from his heavy legs. When he reached the place at last, he found it crowded with noisy customers about the "soda-fount"; and the clerks were stonily slow: they seemed to know that they were "already in eternity." He got very short of breath on the way home; he ceased to perspire and became unnaturally dry; the air was aflame and the sun shot fire upon his bare head. His feet inclined to strange disobediences: he walked the last block waveringly. A solemn Hedrick met him at the door. "They've got her to bed," announced the boy. "The doctor's up there." "Take this ammonia up," said Madison huskily, and sat down upon a lower step of the stairway with a jolt, closing his eyes. "You sick, too?" asked Hedrick. "No. Run along with that ammonia." It seemed to Madison a long time that he sat there alone, and he felt very dizzy. Once he tried to rise, but had to give it up and remain sitting with his eyes shut. At last he heard Cora's door open and close; and his wife and the doctor came slowly down the stairs, Mrs. Madison talking in the anxious yet relieved voice of one who leaves a sick-room wherein the physician pronounces progress encouraging. "And you're _sure_ her heart trouble isn't organic?" she asked. "Her heart is all right," her companion assured her. "There's nothing serious; the trouble is nervous. I think you'll find she'll be better after a good sleep. Just keep her quiet. Hadn't she been in a state of considerable excitement?" "Ye-es--she----" "Ah! A little upset on account of opposition to a plan she'd formed, perhaps?" "Well--partly," assented the mother. "I see," he returned, adding with some dryness: "I thought it just possible." Madison got to his feet, and stepped down from the stairs for them to pass him. He leaned heavily against the wall. "You think she's going to be all right, Sloane?" he asked with an effort. "No cause to worry," returned the physician. "You can let her stay in bed to-day if she wants to but----" He broke off, looking keenly at Madison's face, which was the colour of poppies. "Hello! what's up with _you_?" "I'm all--right."