the steps. She went to meet him, composedly as she could, and conducted
him to the door of the sick-room, which he entered. Edith remained in
the hall, softly walking up and down, and sometimes pausing to listen.

After a little, the door opened. It was only Solomon Weismann, who asked
for warm water, lint, and a quantity of old linen. These Edith quickly
supplied, and then remained alone in the hall, walking up and down, and
pausing to listen as before; once she heard a deep shuddering groan, as
of one in mortal extremity, and her own heart and frame thrilled to the
sound, and then all was still as before.

An hour, two hours, passed, and then the door opened again, and Edith
caught a glimpse of the surgeon, with his shirt sleeves pushed above his
elbows, and a pair of bloody hands. It was Solomon who opened the door
to ask for a basin of water, towels and soap, for the doctor to wash.
Edith furnished these also.

Half an hour passed, and the door opened a third time, and the doctor
himself came out, fresh and smiling. His countenance and his manner were
in every respect encouraging.

"Come into the drawing-room a moment, if you please, Miss Edith, I want
to speak with you."

Edith desired nothing more earnestly just at that moment.

"Well, doctor--your patient?" she inquired, anxiously.

"Will do very well! Will do very well! That is, if he be properly
attended to, and that is what I wished to speak to you about, Miss