was great fondness between the child and himself; and though from what Charlton had told him there seemed little chance that his visit would give the accustomed pleasure, he wished at least, for his own satisfaction, to look on the boy once more. The door of the room was ajar, and he entered noiselessly. The child was lying on his back, with a flushed face, to which the upturned eyes and the restless movement of the lips gave an unnatural and distressing expression. Margaret Ramsay was kneeling by the side of the bed. Her face was turned from him, and unaware of his presence she continued in a low tone her lulling song. He sought to leave the room unperceived as he had entered it, but the door creaked on its hinges, and Margaret looked up. As her eyes met Hanworth's, the colour rushed up into her cheeks for a moment and then deserted them again, leaving them paler than before. Hanworth paused for a moment at the door, turning towards her, and said in a low tone, 'You must not watch too long, Miss Ramsay; you have already undergone so much,' and then he went away.

The tears now streamed fast from Margaret's eyes, rising from a source of emotions so mingled that she could not herself define them, nor was it desirable that she should do so too curiously. Hanworth's observation had recalled the time of her own loss, and he was at that moment in her presence because of his anxious love for his friend's dying child. He

was thinking of her too with solicitous regard. Under that serene exterior there was a heart ever sensible of the trials of others; a disposition to seek to relieve them; a perfect benevolence which shrank from display, and was therefore not always appreciated; and yet to her how clear it seemed, and how perfect! But she was resolved not to suffer herself to meditate on the subject of Hanworth's virtues, and rising from her knees she sought by some occupation in the sick-room to change the current of her thoughts. She made ready a mixture, put some fresh barley-water on the fire, and offered to assist the nurse in some needlework upon which she was engaged; but the sound of the doctor's step on the stairs now gave her the change of emotion she was seeking to obtain, and her heart sickened as the solemn man entered, followed by the pale, weary, trembling mother. His approach to the bed, the drawing of the curtain to admit light, the careful lifting of the coverlet, were actions which each brought a fresh pang of apprehension, and she saw Emilia turn away as if unable to face his look while she asked for his opinion. When he said, in the same unmoved voice with which he would have pronounced the case hopeless, Mrs. Charlton, there is a decided improvement in your child,' it seemed hardly possible to contain her feeling, and she longed to strain the mother to her heart. But she refrained from any demonstration of her agitation, and stood

quite quiet, watching Emilia's face. Her increasing pallor and immovability of posture for a moment seemed to threaten fainting, but a flow of tears came as a relief, and then all was well. Margaret now advanced to her and pressed her hand. Go and tell William,' whispered Mrs. Charlton; and Margaret ran eagerly down on this mission, leaving the mother to consult further with the doctor and nurse.

She was stopped at the drawing-room door by Major Charlton, who entered upon a full tide of questions. In vain Margaret repeated 'He is better, he is really better; now let me go instantly to your brother.' She was always called back for another word, till at last she abruptly passed him and ran to Charlton.

'Oh, Mr. Charlton, there is a favourable change, and I bring you a good message. Dr. Flower thinks well of the case.'

Charlton, who had been uneasily pacing the room in an agony of fear, almost overwhelmed by this sudden change to hope, sat down on the sofa, covering his face with his hands. Then he rose, and spoke a few earnest grateful words to Margaret, while his brother came to him and shook him repeatedly and cordially by the hand, saying, as he did so, I always thought he would get over it; I never would give it up;' and turning to Margaret with fresh questions, 'Is his medicine to be changed? is the skin moist? is the pulse stronger? when will

he be able to eat again?' which inquiries, spoken in eager haste, Dr. Flower slowly entered to answer with the true medical deliberation.

Margaret, satisfied and happy, returned home to Edith, and in her rejoicing over the change in the child's condition she omitted to mention her short interview with Hanworth.

CHAPTER XXI.

ROM this day of improvement, the change for

FROM

the better in the little boy was rapid, and every succeeding morning found his strength increasing. But during the period of convalescence no less care was required than during that of illness, and the task of amusing him became difficult; while his desires, surpassing his power of enjoyment, brought him into a condition of fretful impatience. Under these circumstances, Emilia found in Margaret's affectionate assiduity a great solace; while the mother, resuming her household duties, was compelled to short periods of absence from the child, Margaret would take her place, and cut out figures in card, carriages and sledges, and invent such lively stories about them that the boy never failed to be amused in her company. Major Charlton would frequently join in these efforts, and sometimes Hanworth would come in with a new toy. The child's wonted affections had returned, and to Hanworth he would stretch out his arms, claiming a seat on his lap. On one occasion as he did so, Major Charlton viewed him uneasily, and rising from his seat he took a turn up and down the room, watching Margaret