which necessarily took place, restored Margaret to apparent
consciousness. After feeling her pulse for some time, he said--

"It will not be necessary to disturb her while she sleeps; but if
she becomes restless, a little wine may be given. In the morning I
will see her early," and he made a movement to go.

"Doctor," said Ellen, looking him eagerly in the face, "tell me
truly--is she not dying?"

For a moment the physician looked upon the earnest, tearful girl,
and read in her countenance that hope and fear held there a painful
struggle.

"While there is life, there is hope," he replied briefly.

"Tell me the truth, doctor, I can bear it," she urged appealingly.
"If my sister is going to die, I wish to know it."

"I have seen many recover who appeared nearer to death than she is,"
he replied, evasively. "As I have just said, where there is life,
there is hope."

Ellen turned from him, evidently disappointed at the answer, and the
doctor went down-stairs, accompanied by Mr. Condy. The two remained
some minutes in conversation below, and when the latter returned he
found his wife and daughter standing by the bedside, and Margaret
exhibiting many signs of restlessness. She kept rolling her head
upon the pillow, and throwing her hands about uneasily. In a few
minutes she began to moan and mutter incoherently. After a little