Dr. Staines's eye kindled.

"Hum!" said he. Then, after a considerable pause, "Are you better or
worse after each hemorrhage?"

"La!" said Rosa; "they never asked me that. Why, better."

"No faintness?"

"Not a bit."

"Rather a sense of relief, perhaps?"

"Yes; I feel lighter and better."

The examination was concluded.

Dr. Staines looked at Rosa, and then at her father. The agony in that
aged face, and the love that agony implied, won him, and it was to the
parent he turned to give his verdict.

"The hemorrhage is from the lungs"--

Lusignan interrupted him: "From the lungs!" cried he, in dismay.

"Yes; a slight congestion of the lungs."

"But not incurable! Oh, not incurable, doctor!"