garden. The stricken girl lay on a couch in the center of the middle room. The mother had retired up-stairs, where she was being attended by some neighbors. The father and the others had tried everything they knew to restore Madeline, but all in vain. She lay like dead; and but for a feeble pulsation of the heart, gave no sign of life.
"Here comes the doctor," some one said, looking out the window.
"Thank God," whispered the father, sitting beside the couch, holding her hand, and saying tender things that he had forgotten to say when she could understand.
Poor Madeline!
"Well!" said Satiani under his breath, as he entered the house and saw the consternation.
The father arose and gave him his hand. "What can you do for her, doctor? It must be done at once—or can this sort of thing continue long?"
The doctor made no reply but proceeded to examine the girl. There was that silence that there is in a court of justice when the judge is about to render a
