"Day after to-morrow evening, I hope, if there is no detention and he makes all the railroad connections. I trust you will prove sufficiently generous to bear testimony to my professional skill, by improving so rapidly that when he arrives there will be nothing left to do but compliment my sagacity, and thank me for relieving you so speedily. Is not your cough rather better?" She did not reply; and, bending down, he saw that she was asleep. "Doctor, I am afraid she is not much better." He sighed, shook his head, and beckoned Hester into the hall in order to question her more minutely concerning the patient. That night and the next she was delirious, and failed to recognize any one; but about noon on the following day she opened her eyes, and, looking intently at Salome, who stood near the foot of the bed, she said, as if much perplexed,-- "I saw Ulpian just now. Where is he?" "He will be here this afternoon, I hope. The train is due at two o'clock, and it is now a quarter past twelve." "I tell you I saw him not ten minutes since." "You are feverish, dear Miss Jane, and have been dreaming." "Don't contradict me! Am I in my dotage, think you? I saw my boy, and he was pale, and had blood on his hands, and it ran down his beard and dripped on his vest. You can't deceive me! What is the matter with my poor boy? I will see him! Give me my crutches this instant!" She struggled into a partially upright position, but fell back upon her pillow exhausted and panting for breath. "You were delirious. I give you my word that he has not yet come home. It was only a horrible dream. Hester will assure you of the truth of what I say. You must lie still, for this excitement will injure you." The nurse gave her a powerful sedative, and strove to divert her thoughts; but ever and anon she shuddered and whispered,-- "It was not a dream. I saw my dear sailor-boy, and he was hurt and bleeding. I know what I saw; and if you and Hester swore till every star dropped out of heaven, I would not believe you. If I am old and dying, my eyes are better than yours. My poor Ulpian!" Despite her knowledge of the feverish condition of the sick woman, and her incredulity with reference to the vision that so painfully disturbed her, Salome's lips blanched, and a vague, nameless, horrible dread seized her heart. Very soon Miss Jane fell into a heavy sleep, and, while the nurse busied herself in preparing a bottle of beef-tea, the orphan sat with her head pressed against the bedpost, and her eyes riveted on the face of the watch in her palm, where the minute-hand seemed now and then to stop, as if for breathing-time, and the hour-hand to have forgotten the way to two o'clock.