“Was what a dream, love?” said Margaret, supporting her sister’s head upon her bosom.

Suddenly Carrie remembered the whole, but she resolved not to tell of her stepmother’s visit, though she earnestly desired to know if what Lenora had told her were true.  Raising herself, so that she could see Margaret’s face, she said, “Maggie, is there no hope for me; and do the physicians say I must die?”

“Why, what do you mean?  I never knew that they said so,” answered Mag; and then with breathless indignation she listened, while Carrie told her what Lenora had said.  “I’ll see that she doesn’t get in here again,” said Margaret.  “I know she made more than half of that up; for, though the physicians say you lungs are very much diseased, they have never saw that you could not recover.”

The next morning, greatly to Mag’s astonishment Carrie insisted upon going down to breakfast.

“Why, you must not do it; you are not able,” said Mag.  But Carrie was determined; and, wrapping herself in her thick shawl, she slowly descended the stay though the cold air in the long hall made her shiver.

“Carrie, dear, you are better this morning, and there is quite a rosy flush on your cheek,” said Mrs. Hamilton, rising to meet her. (Mr. Hamilton, be it remembered, was present.) But Carrie shrank instinctively from her stepmother’s advances, and took her seat by the side of her father.  After breakfast Mag remembered that she had an errand in the village, and Carrie, who felt too weary to return immediately to her room, said she would wait below until her sister returned.  Mag had been gone but a few moments when Mrs. Hamilton, opening the outer door, called to Lenora, saying, “Come and take a few turns on the piazza with Carrie.  The air is bracing this morning, and will do her good.”

Willie, who was present, cried out, “No—­Carrie is sick; she can’t walk—­Maggie said she couldn’t,” and he grasped his sister’s hand to hold her.  With a not very gentle jerk Mrs. Hamilton pulled him off, while Lenora, who came bobbing and bounding into the room, took Carrie’s arm, saying.

“Oh, yes, I’ll walk with you; shall we have a hop, skip, or jump?”

“Don’t, don’t!” said Carrie, holding back; “I can’t walk fast, Lenora,” and actuated by some sudden impulse of kindness, Lenora conformed her steps to those of the invalid.  Twice they walked up and down the piazza, and were about turning for the third time, when Carrie, clasping her hand over her side, exclaimed, “No, no; I can’t go again.”

Little Willie, who fancied that his sister was being hurt, sprang toward Lenora, saying, “Leno, you mustn’t hurt Carrie.  Let her go; she’s sick.”

And now to the scene of action came Dame Hamilton, and seizing her young stepson, she tore him away from Lenora, administering at the same time a bit of a motherly shake.  Willie’s blood was up, and in return he dealt her a blow, for which she rewarded him by another shake, and by tying him to the table.