As the doctor quitted the parlor, where he held a conference with Mr. and Mrs. Andrews, the latter turned to her husband, saying: 

“It is useless to start anywhere with Felix unless Miss Earl can go with us; for he would fret himself to death in a week.  Really, Louis, it is astonishing to see how devoted they are to each other.  Feeble as that woman is, she will always sit up whenever there is any medicine to be given during the night; and while he was ill at Sharon, she did not close her eyes for a week.  I can’t help feeling jealous of his affection for her, and I spoke to her about it.  He was asleep at the time, with his hand grasping one of hers; and when I told her how trying it was for a mother to see her child’s whole heart given to a stranger, to hear morning, noon, and night, ‘Edna,’ always ‘Edna,’ never once ‘mamma,’ I wish you could have seen the strange, suffering expression that came into her pale face.  Her lips trembled so that she could scarcely speak, but she said meekly, ’Oh! forgive me if I have won your child’s heart; but I love him.  You have your husband and daughter, your brother and sister; but I—­oh!  I have only Felix!  I have nothing else to cling to in all this world!’ Then she kissed his poor little fingers, and wept as if her heart would break, and wrung her hands, and begged me again and again to forgive her if he loved her best.  She is the strangest woman I ever knew; sometimes, when she is sitting by me in church, I watch her calm, cold, white face, and she makes me think of a snow statue; but if Felix says anything to arouse her feelings and call out her affection, she is a volcano.  It is very rarely that one finds a beautiful woman, distinguished by her genius, admired and courted by the reading public, devoting herself as she does to our dear little crippled darling.  While I confess I am jealous of her, her kindness to my child makes me love her more than I can express.  Louis, she must go with us.  Poor thing! she seems to be failing almost as fast as Felix; and I verily believe if he should die, it would kill her.  Did you notice how she paced the floor while the doctors were consulting in Felix’s room?  She loves nothing but my precious lame boy.”

“Certainly, Kate, she must go with you.  I quite agree with you, my dear, that Felix is dependent upon her, and would not derive half the benefit from the trip if she remained at home.  I confess she has cured me to a great extent of my horror of literary characters.  She is the only one I ever saw who was really lovable, and not a walking parody on her own writings.  You would be surprised at the questions constantly asked me about her habits and temper.  People seem so curious to learn all the routine of her daily life.  Last week a member of our club quoted something from her writings, and said that she was one of the few authors of the day whose books, without having first examined, he would put into the hands of his daughters.  He remarked:  ‘I