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"The young ladies!" repeated Marian, bitterly--"the young ladies! The young dolls--dolts--dummies to try dresses on! What are Maude and Gertrude Creswell to us, mother? What kindness, courtesy even, have they ever shown us? To get at their uncle's purse is what we most need----"

"Oh, Marian, Marian!" interrupted Mrs. Ashurst, "what are you saying?"

"Saying?" replied Marian calmly--"Saying? The truth! What should I say when I know that if we had the command of Mr. Creswell's purse, father's life might--from what I gather from Dr. Osborne, most probably would--be saved! Are these circumstances under which one should be meek and mild and thankful for one's lot in life! Is this a time to talk of gratitude and---- He's moving! Yes, darling father, Marian is here!"

Two hours afterwards, Marian and Dr. Osborne stood in the porch. There were tears in the eyes of the garrulous but kindly old man; but the girl's eyes were dry, and her face was set harder and more rigid than ever. The doctor was the first to speak.