Very soon she fell into a sound sleep—so sound a sleep, indeed, that even the crash of the drawing-box as it tumbled to the floor did not disturb her. Poor child! She was accustomed to noises all day and all night. She awoke to find herself half suffocated with smoke; and great was her horror, on opening the door, to see their sitting-room in flames. She endeavoured to escape down the staircase, but fear paralysed her limbs, and she sank senseless to the floor. Phil knew what followed. She supposed her uncle awoke on the first alarm of fire, and in the confusion and terror of the moment completely forgot her. But, Millie said, he had scarcely mentioned the awful occurrences of that night, and she dared not break upon his reserve, and question him. Phil rarely spoke to the doctors and nurses, except to thank them for their kindness and attention. To Dr. Bethune, however, he sometimes opened his heart. "Will you tell me the truth, Sir?" he said one day, as Dr. Bethune stood by his bedside. "Will you tell me if there is any hope for me?" "I can hardly say at present, Phil," the doctor replied. "Yours is a very bad case, and we do not see the improvement that we expected; but there is no immediate danger. When there is, you shall know, I promise you. All that human skill can do for you will be done, rest assured of that." For a few minutes Phil neither moved nor spoke. Then he said: "I should like to see Miss Crawford, Sir. I have something to tell her in case I should die. Do you think she will come?" "I am sure she will. You shall see her to-morrow." Phil smiled gratefully. The doctor was as good as his word. He carried Phil's message that same evening to Miss Crawford, and early on the following day she was at the boy's bedside. To his amazement she took his scorched, blistered hand in hers, and reverently kissed it. Phil pulled it hastily away. "Don't do that, Miss Crawford," he said. "You don't know what you are doing." "Yes, I do," she answered, with tears in her eyes, "for I know you to be such a brave, fearless boy, that I am proud to own you as my friend." A sob rose in Phil's throat. "Miss Crawford, if you don't want me to die of shame, don't speak so," he said humbly. "It is because you don't know that you say so. I asked to see you because I could not die with the dreadful load there is upon my conscience. I tried to tell Dr. Bethune, but I couldn't get out the words. O Miss Crawford, you will hate me so when you hear it." "Hush, my boy! You must talk quietly if you wish to keep me here," she said very soothingly. "I promised Dr. Bethune that I would not let you get excited. You are not quite yourself, or you would not say such things." Phil strove to subdue his agitation.