see, and will be on her again to-morrow--"

"I beg your pardon, Doctor Colligan," said Barry, of a sudden
remembering to be civil,--"but you'll take a glass of wine?"

"Not a drop, thank ye, of anything."

"Oh, but you will;" and Barry rang the bell and had the wine brought.
"And you expect she'll have another attack to-morrow?"

"That's a matter of course, Mr Lynch; the fever'll come on her again
to-morrow. Every attack leaves her weaker and weaker, and we fear
she'll go off, before it leaves her altogether."

"Poor thing!" said Barry, contemplatively.

"We had her head shaved," said the doctor.

"Did you, indeed!" answered Barry. "She was my favourite sister, Doctor
Colligan--that is, I had no other."

"I believe not," said Doctor Colligan, looking sympathetic.

"Take another glass of wine, doctor?--now do," and he poured out
another bumper.

"Thank'ee, Mr Lynch, thank'ee; not a drop more. And you'll be over in
an hour then? I'd better go and tell her, that she may be prepared, you
know," and the doctor returned to the sick room of his patient.