once;" and they went together.

Wonder was lying in her bed, with flushed cheeks and bright yet heavy
eyes.

"Wonder, my little Wonder," said Antony caressingly, as he bent over
her. "Does little Wonder feel ill?"

"Yes, Daddy. I feel so sick, Daddy."

"Never mind; she will be better to-morrow." But he had noticed how
burning hot were her hands, and how dry were her fresh little lips.

"I must go for the doctor at once," he said to his wife, when they were
outside the room. The father, so long asleep, had sprung awake at the
first hint of danger to the little child that in his neglectful way he
loved deeply all the time; and, in spite of the danger to Wonder, a
faint joy stirred in Beatrice's heart to see him thus humanly aroused
once more.

"Kiss me, Beatrice," he said, as he set out upon his errand. "Don't be
anxious, it will be all right." It was the first time he had kissed his
wife for many days.

The doctor's was some three miles away across the moor. It was a bright
starlit night, and Antony, who knew the moor well, had no difficulty in
making his way at a good pace along the mossy tracks. Presently he gave
a little cry of pain and stood still.

"O God," he cried, "it cannot be that. Oh, it cannot."