frightened.

"She's a sick child, madam."

"You've promised, father."--The dreamer is speaking again.--"I'm
not well enough yet. Oh, don't go, father; don't! There! He's
gone! Well, well! I'll try and walk there--I can sit down and rest
by the way. Oh, dear! How tired I am! Father! Father!"

The child starts up and looks about her wildly.

"Oh, mother, is it you?" And she sinks back upon her pillow,
looking now inquiringly from face to face.

"Father--where is father?" she asks.

"Asleep, dear."

"Oh! Is he? I'm glad."

Her eyes close wearily.

"Do you feel any pain, Mary?" inquired the doctor.

"Yes, sir--in my head. It aches and beats so."

The cry of "Father" had reached the ears of Morgan, who is
sleeping in the next room, and roused him into consciousness. He
knows the doctor's voice. Why is he here at this late hour? "Do
you feel any pain, Mary?" The question he hears distinctly, and