After a hurried meal, I drove rapidly to Mr. T.'s residence. The house door was quietly opened by a servant, and in another minute I stood in the chamber of the invalid. The mantel was crowded with numerous vials. The close atmosphere of the sick-room was sickening. By the bedside, with her face bowed over one of the pale hands of the daughter, which she held in both of her own, sat the wretched mother. It seemed to me as though ten years had passed over her faded and care-worn countenance, since I last gazed upon it. I could not stir; my heart stood still. _Her hair had become entirely gray._ [Illustration: REMORSE.] I gained heart to approach; the desolate mother heard me, and turning quickly she sprang from her chair, and placing her hands on my shoulders, she bowed her head: she sobbed wildly, as though her heart would break. "Look, look, doctor! Would you have known her? O, my God, she is leaving me! Save her--O, save her!" and the wretched mother fell fainting to the floor. We gently raised and bore her to her own chamber. In a few moments I returned to Emily. She turned her head languidly towards me, while her right hand moved as if to take mine. How dry was the palm! Her color had faded away; the once rounded cheeks were sunken. O, I will not describe her! The physician who had been called, after my departure, had found her with high fever and delirium. He mistook the excitement of the brain for its inflammation. O, fatal error! A consultation was called. The second comer was notedly a man who viewed every excitement as caused by "an over-action of the vessels," and bleeding was its only relief. The nervous system he entirely ignored. From his theory, man was a mere combination of blood, blood-vessels, and biliary secretions, more or less deranged. Calomel, salts, and the lancet were his Hercules. The grand _causa mortis_ amongst the human family was "serosity." Hence some evil-minded wag amongst his brethren had named him "Old Serosity." The poor child had been bled, cupped, and purged, in order to subdue this "over-action of the blood-vessels." Verily it may cure the vessels, but it certainly kills the patient. The life current was nigh exhausted; there was no blood left for renewal of brain, nerve, or vital tissue. My heart was bitter against this murderous adherence to a false principle. Here a human life, that of a young and spotless girl, was the forfeit. But to return to the thread of the narrative. "O, I am glad you have come back to me. Do try to save me, doctor," she said, with great effort. Sending the nurse from the room, I quickly pressed the young girl's hand within my own, and said to her,-- "Do you really wish to live, Emily?" "Yes, yes," she murmured; "I am very young to die."