feeling so unwell, that she said she believed she should be obliged to stay at home. Mrs Harcourt, however, thought the excitement might do her good, and she dragged herself wearily up stairs to dress for the occasion. How the business was accomplished, she never could tell; but sae remembered that dressing all her life, and the concert that followed. The sound, instead of conveying music to her ear, seemed as if hundred-mouthed instruments were uttering the most hideous discords; the voices appeared double-tongued in the loudness with which they reached her brain, and it was with difficulty she remained to the end. Pauline had left a few weeks previously, and her successor had not yet arrived; it was Minette, therefore, who awaited her at her room door, and was alarmed at the ashy whiteness of her countenance, and to see her faint as soon as she could reach the nearest chair. She was, however, not long in reviving, and to the attendant's anxious remarks, desired that Mrs Harcourt might not be called, as it was probably only a warm day and an overcrowded room which had knocked her up. Minette, acting on this opinion, helped her to get to rest as quickly as possible; when her head was on the pillow, she said it was much more comfortable, and was certain of being better in the morning, and the maid left her in the belief she would soon fall asleep. When Minette returned, at an earlier hour than usual, she was startled to find that, far from being better, it was evident Eleanor was exceedingly ill; she had not slept all night, her head ached violently, and her hands were burning, but she begged she might be left alone and not disturbed. Minette, instead of complying with her request, proceeded to call the housekeeper, who at once resolved, on her own responsibility, to send for the physician who always attended the family. Mrs Harcourt, having taken her usual rest, rang her bell soon after eleven o'clock, that the servant might bring her the coffee, as was the custom when she had been out late and did not come down to breakfast; a habit to which Mr Harcourt had been so broken in, that he thought nothing of a solitary meal. The lady was surprised at the apparition, not of Minette with the tray, but of the staid person of her respectable housekeeper, who proceeded briefly to inform her mistress of what had passed before they liked to wake her; adding, that Dr Selby, who had just left the house, said Miss Harcourt had got the scarlet fever, which she seemed likely to have very severely; and having given immediate directions, had told her he should call again later in the day. Nothing could have been a greater shock to the listener; it was like a sudden plunge into a cold bath. The scarlet fever, in her house too! Why they might all catch it, and what was more, they might all die of it. Her imagination had already reached the worst: she begged Mrs Timms would stand a little farther off. The good woman did as requested, and with some little indignation in her voice at the principal sufferer having been forgotten, remarked that she was waiting for her mistress' directions. Mrs Harcourt had remembered that, with some complaints, there was no danger of infection for the first few days; it might be so with scarlet fever. Could not Miss Harcourt be removed before she got worse, to a comfortable place of course, but out of the house; would "Timms see about it?" "No;" Mrs Timms would be no party to any such measures; she was sure, from Dr Selby's manner, he already thought her in danger. They "must nurse her where she was, and take their chance like other people." "If that is the case, my good Timms, I leave it all to you, I really feel I should not be of the slightest use; you will be sure, I know, to see that everything is comfortable; you can tell Minette every day (you must not go near her) exactly how Miss Harcourt is, as of course I shall be exceedingly anxious to hear. It will not be necessary for me to see Dr Selby, as you will always be at hand, and there might be danger of infection when he has just left his patient; so, Mrs Timms, I trust entirely to you; and as you go up, desire that Juliana is not allowed to go to that floor on any account." This being about the most reasonable remark her mistress had made, Mrs Timms at once executed the order; but she muttered a good deal, as she went about her work, on the subject of "selfish people" (she did not mention any one particularly) "who had no feeling." Dr Selby had sent a nurse, but they still needed more help. Minette would have given it, had not her mistress required her attendance; and Mrs Timms was pondering to whom she could apply, when the little under-housemaid volunteered for the service, saying she was not afraid, and would do anything for Miss Harcourt; and though she had not much experience, yet, if the others would direct her, she could do what they wished. Sarah brought at least good will to her task. Her devotion to Eleanor had arisen from that young lady having once kindly inquired after her mother, who was ill. It was not very often Miss Harcourt troubled herself about the servants' interests, and on the young maid it had caused such an impression, that Eleanor's act of kindliness was now reaping for her a fourfold reward. But the object of her service was unconscious of this, or indeed of anything else. Before Dr Selby's second visit, she was delirious, and the physician looked grave, telling Mrs Timms it was fortunate her patient was young, and had a good constitution. He smiled when informed that Mrs Harcourt would prefer not seeing him, but merely remarked that fright was likely to give her the infection as soon as anything. Her life She had Mr Harcourt was sincerely concerned, on his return home in the evening, to hear how matters stood, and was proceeding directly to the door of the sick room, to get information on the spot, when his wife expressed her extreme astonishment, and begged, if he did not care for the risk himself, he would at least consider her. was indeed now as wretched as could be. very properly sent Juliana and her attendant away, and as her friends were afraid to do more than call at the door, she led but a lonely existence, and would gladly have gone to the sea-side to her child; but her husband could not leave town, and, moreover, would not have done so, as, he told her, their absence would be highly improper when Miss Harcourt was in actual danger of losing her life. It certainly looked better for her to stay, though otherwise it made no difference. The only consolation left was taking a drive, where she could at least see her acquaintances, and show the world she was not ill, or likely to be so. If her days were weary, what were they to the watchers in the darkened room, who each hour looked to see the thread of that young life snap beneath the burning influence of the fatal fever, which ran its undiminished course till hope almost died in the hearts of those who stood round Eleanor's bed? Had the command, "Cut it down, why cumbereth it the ground," gone forth? Was "the accepted time, the day of salvation" past, |