from her cough, and for a time dispelled her apprehensions.

One evening Mary stood leaning against the window, looking earnestly,
wistfully upon the beautiful tints which ever linger in the western
sky. She stretched her arms toward the dim outline, murmuring slowly:

"Oh! that my life may fade away as gently as those tints, and that I
may at last rest on the bosom of my God."

Darkness closed around--the soft hues melted into the deep blue of the
zenith as she stood communing with her own heart, and she started when
a shawl was wrapped about her, and the window closed.

"As ministering physician, I cannot allow such neglect of injunctions.
How dare you expose yourself after my express direction to keep
close?"

"I have kept very closely all day, and did not know that star-gazing
was interdicted."

As she spoke, a violent fit of coughing succeeded; he watched her
anxiously.

"Do you suffer any acute pain?"

"Occasionally I do; but nothing troubles me so much as an unpleasant
fluttering about my heart, which I often have."

"You must be very careful, or your cough will increase as winter comes
on."