gets over it he will tell us what it was."

"I don't believe he will," said William
King; he was holding Fenn's wrist between
his firm fingers, and then he
turned up a fluttering eyelid and looked
at the still dulled eye.

Philippa, kneeling on the other side
of John Fenn, said loudly: "I will tell
HIM--and perhaps God will forgive
me."

The doctor, glancing up at her, said:
"No, you won't--anyhow at present.
Take that child up-stairs, Hannah,"
he commanded, "and put her to bed.
She ran all the way to Old Chester to
get me," he explained to Henry Roberts.

Before he left the house that night he
sat for a few minutes at Philippa's bedside.
"My dear little girl," he said, in
his kind, sensible voice, "the best thing
to do is to forget it. It was a foolish
thing to do--that charm business; but
happily no harm is done. Now say
nothing about it, and never do it again."

Philippa turned her shuddering face