Roger hastened back to the patient, stopping on the way only long enough to ask Mrs. Wheaton to go to Mrs. Jocelyn's room instantly, and then, with the physician's aid, he carried the unconscious man to his room, and laid him on his bed. "Oh, Martin! Martin!" moaned the wife, "how changed, how changed! Oh, God! he's dying." "I hope not, madam," said the physician; "at any rate we must all keep our self-possession and do our best. While there is life there is hope." With dilated eyes, and almost fierce repression of all aid from other hands, she took the clothing from the limp and wasted form. "He IS dying," she moaned; "see how unnatural his eyes are; the pupils are almost gone. Oh, God! why did I let him go from me when he was so ill!" "Would you not like Belle and Miss Mildred summoned at once?" Roger asked. "Yes, yes, they ought to be here now; every moment may be precious, and he may become conscious." "At the same time I would like you to call on Dr. Benton in Twenty-third Street," added the physician. "He is a friend of mine, and has had much experience. In so serious a case I would like to consult him." Roger, while on his way to Dr. Benton's office, passed a livery-stable with a coach standing just within the door, and he at once resolved that the weary girls should not be exhausted by flying home in terror-stricken haste. He took the carriage, obtained the physician, and explained to him what had happened while on the way to the shop in which Belle was employed. It was Christmas-eve, and the store was still crowded with eleventh-hour purchasers, on whom the weary child was waiting in a jaded, mechanical way. Her vacant look and the dark lines under her eyes proved how exhausted she was; but at the sight of Roger a flash of light and pleasure came into her face, and then his expression caused it to fade into extreme pallor. "What is it?" she asked, turning from a garrulous customer. "Don't be alarmed; get your things and come with me. I will make it all right with your employer." "Belle," he said, when they were by the carriage door, "you must be a brave woman to-night. Your father is home, and he is very ill. Perhaps his life depends on quiet and freedom from all excitement. Dr Benton, an experienced physician, is in the carriage, and will go with us. You must tell your sister--I cannot." If Belle had been herself she would not have failed him; but, after the long strain of the day, she became completely unnerved at his tidings, and sobbed almost hysterically. She could not control herself sufficiently to enter the shop where Mildred stood, unconscious of the approaching shadow, and so the heavy task of breaking the news fell upon Roger. "If Belle, naturally so strong, was white and faint from the long, toilsome day, how wan and ghost-like poor Mildred will appear!" was his thought as he sprang to the sidewalk.