he shook Holden by the hand as an evidence of welcome, and, without hesitation, assented to the propriety of the Solitary’s suggestion, that the insanity of Armstrong and his attempted violence, should be kept secret.  Rest was prescribed by the doctor for Faith, whom, contrary to her inclinations, he compelled to retire to her chamber, whither he sent a composing draught, with assurances that her father was doing well, which declaration, probably, had quite as much effect in inducing the slumbers that succeeded, as the anodyne.  He next turned his attention to her father.

No one, without particular observation, would have remarked any change in him.  Upon returning home, he had quietly entered the parlor and sat down in a large arm-chair, which was a favorite seat, looking first around with a grave and pleased expression.  His daughter was with him then, who, indeed, until the arrival of the physician, had remained by his side, and nothing seemed to please Armstrong so much as retaining her hand in one of his, to pass the other over her silken hair, and let it slide down over the pale cheeks, all the time gazing at her with an appearance of infinite affection.  But when the doctor felt his pulse, he found it bounding like a frightened steed; and this symptom, together with the heightened crimson of the cheeks, and deepening blackness of the eyes, but too plainly revealed the access of violent fever.  Bleeding was in vogue in those days, and much practised, and the skill of Elmer could suggest nothing better for the pressure of blood on the brain, than letting blood.  Having had, therefore, Armstrong conducted to his chamber, he opened a vein, and bleeding him till he fainted, he afterwards administered the medicines he thought proper, enjoining the strictest quiet, promising to be with him every moment that his professional engagements permitted.  During the whole Armstrong was passive, yielding himself like a child to all that was required, and seeming to be in a beatitude, which made whatever might occur of but little concernment.  As the doctor was about leaving, he accepted of Holden’s proposal, which was rather uttered as a determination, to remain, and send for his son.  “If,” thought Elmer, “Holden is Armstrong’s brother, he has a right to stay; if not, he has at least saved Faith’s life, as she says herself, and he knows after all, a ‘hawk from a hand-saw.’  Young Holden, too, is a sensible fellow, and I think I may trust them.”  In some such way thronged the thoughts through Elmer’s mind.  “I will,” he said to himself, “stop as I pass Judge Bernard’s house, to let Anne know that her friend Faith is indisposed, and ask her to sleep with her to-night.”  Such, accordingly, was, for a short time the composition of the family under Mr. Armstrong’s roof.

Once or twice daring the night Faith started in her sleep, and threw her arm around her lovely companion, as if to ask for protection, and Anne heard her moaning something indistinctly; but, on the whole, her sleep was refreshing, and in the morning she awoke, paler, indeed, and weaker than common, but with no other signs of illness about her.