"How long since you took the tribe of widows under your special protection?" "Since the moment, that, owing to some inexplicable freak, my dear Janet suffered 'evil communications to corrupt' her 'good manners,' and absolutely forgot to be just and generous." He kissed his sister and rose, but the troubled look that settled once more on his countenance did not escape her observation. "Ulpian, is Mrs. Gerome very ill?" "Yes, I am exceedingly unhappy about her. She is dangerously ill with a low, nervous, fever that baffles all my remedies." Dr. Grey walked up and down the room, and Miss Jane pressed her spectacles closer to her nose, and watched him. "If the poor woman leads such a lonely, miserable life, I should think that death would prove a blessed release to her. Of course it is natural and reasonable that you should desire to save all your patients, but why are you so very unhappy about her?" He did not answer immediately, and when he spoke his deep tone was tremulous with fervent feeling. "Because I find that she is dearer to me than all the other women in the world, except my sister; and her death would grieve me more than any trial that has yet overtaken me--more than you can realize, or than I can express." He took Miss Jane's face in his hands, kissed her, and left the room. Meeting Muriel and Salome in the hall, the former seized his arm, and exclaimed,-- "You shall not leave home again! Let me tell Elbert to put up your buggy. If you continue to work yourself down, as you are now doing, you will be prematurely old, and gray, and decrepit. Come into the parlor, and let me play you to sleep." "I heartily wish I could follow your pleasant prescription, but duty is inexorable, and knows no law but that of obedience." "Must you sit up to-night? Is that poor lady no better?" "I can see no improvement, and must remain until I do." "You are afraid that she will die?" "I hope that God will spare her life." His serious tone awed Muriel, who raised his hand to her lips, and murmured,-- "My dear doctor, I wish I could help you. I wish I could do something to make you look less troubled." "You can help me, little one, by being happy yourself, and by aiding Salome in cheering my sister, while I am forced to spend so much time away from her. Good evening. Take care of yourselves till I come home." Humming a bar of a Genoese barcarole, Muriel ran up stairs to join her governess; but Salome turned and followed the master of the house to the front door. "Dr. Grey, can I render you any assistance at 'Solitude'?" "Thank you,--the time has passed when you might have aided me. Two weeks ago, when I requested you to go with me, Mrs. Gerome was rational and would have yielded to your influence, but now she is delirious and you could accomplish nothing. The servants are faithful and attentive, and can be trusted during my absence to execute my orders."