she came into the room continually. At last it became a question
almost of life and death, for the fever ran high; and even Dr.
Anstruther, cheery man as he was, began to look exceedingly grave.
The child must be kept quiet, and how to do it?

For in this crisis Christian found out, what every woman has to find out
soon or late, the weak points in her husband. She saw that, like many
another good and brave man, he was in this matter quite paralyzed; that
she could rely only upon herself, and act for herself, or else tell him
what he was to do, and help him to do it, just like a child. She did not
care for him the less for this--she sometimes felt she cared for him,
more; but she opened her eyes calmly to the facts of the case, and to her
own heavy responsibility.

She consulted with Dr. Anstruther, and left him to explain things to
whomsoever he would; then locked the door, and for eight days and
nights suffered no one to cross the threshold of Arthur's room except
the doctor.

It was a daring expedient, but the desperation of the time and Dr.
Anstruther's consent and co-operation, gave her courage; she was
neither timid nor ignorant; she knew exactly what to do, and she
believed, if it were God's will to save Arthur's life, He would give her
strength to do it.

"My boy's life--only his life!" she prayed, more earnestly than she had
ever prayed in her life before, and then prepared for the long solitary
vigil, of which it was impossible to foresee the end. In its terrible
suspense she forgot every thing except the present; day by day and hour
by hour, as they slipped heavily along. She ceased to think of herself at