did not recognize any one, and kept moaning and talking about her head, which she said was between two planks in the garret, where she could not get it out. Mrs. Walter Scott saw she was very sick, and though she did not pet or caress or kiss the feverish, restless girl, she did her best to soothe and quiet her, and sent Celine for the family physician, who came and went before either Roger or Frank knew that danger threatened Magdalen. “Typhoid fever, aggravated by excitement and some sudden exposure to cold,” was the doctor’s verdict. “Typhoid in its most violent form, judging from present symptoms;” and then Mrs. Walter Scott, who affected a mortal terror of that kind of fever, declared her unwillingness to risk her life by staying in the sick-room, and sent for Hester Floyd. The old woman’s animosity against Magdalen had cooled a little, and when she heard how sick she was she started for her at once. “She nussed me through a fever, and I’d be a heathen to neglect her now, let her be ever so big a piece of trumpery,” she said to herself as she went along the passage to Magdalen’s room. But when she reached it, and saw the moaning, tossing girl, and heard her sad complaints of her head wedged in between the boards, and her pleadings for some one to get it out, her old love for the child came surging back, and she bent over her lovingly, saying to her softly, “Poor Maggie, old Hester will get your head out, she will, she will—there—there—isn’t it a bit easier now?” and she rubbed and bathed the burning head, and gave the cooling drink, and administered the little globules in which she had no faith, giving eight instead of six and sometimes even ten. And still there was no change for the better in Magdalen, who talked of the will, which she was trying to burn, and then of Roger, but not a word of Frank, who was beside her now, his face pale with fear and anxiety as he saw the great change in Magdalen, and how fast her fever increased. Roger was the last to hear of it, for he had been busy in the library ever since Lawyer Schofield’s departure, and did not know what was passing in the house until Hester went to him, and said: “She thinks her head is jammed in between them boards in the garret floor, and nobody but you can pry it out. I guess you had better see her. Mr. Frank is there, of course, as he or’ to be after what I seen in the hall yesterday.” “What did you see?” Roger asked, and Hester replied: “I found her in my room when I went from here and I spoke my mind freely, I s’pose, about her snoopin’ after the will when you had done so much for her, and she gave a scart kind of screech, and ran out into the hall, where Mr. Frank met her, and put his arm round her and led her to her own door, and kissed her as he had a right to if she’s to be his wife.”