Condy, but you must all help me as much as you can, so that I can
get home every evening. It won't do to let Margaret be alone all
night, for her cough is much worse in the evening, and before day in
the morning."

Neither Mrs. Condy nor her daughters replied to this. Mentally, they
deemed it impossible for Ellen to go home at night. But they did not
wish to say so. It was Wednesday, and all the afternoon was consumed
in cutting, fitting, and basting the dresses. Night came, and Ellen,
after tea, prepared to go home. Some slight objection was made; but
she was resolute. It was some time after dark when she came in sight
of her chamber window. It showed that there was no light within.
Instantly she sprang forward, and soon bounded up the stairs and
into the room.

"Margaret!--How are you, Margaret?" she said, pressing up to the
bedside, and putting her hand upon the forehead of her sister. It
was cold and clammy. A violent fit of coughing prevented a reply. A
light was obtained in a few minutes, and showed the countenance of
Margaret slightly distorted from difficult breathing, and her
forehead perceptibly corrugated.

"You are worse, sister!" exclaimed Ellen, kissing her damp forehead.

"No, not much worse. My cough is only a little troublesome," was the
quiet reply.

"You have had no supper yet, of course," said Ellen. "A cup of hot
tea will do you good."