She lay with her eyes shut, her lips pressed together and her forehead drawn into lines, and an expression of pain on her face, answering only in dull monosyllables to the inquiries made every now and then by her nurse, who hovered about the bed and watched over her with anxious solicitude.

As she feared, fever symptoms began to show themselves.  The evening had worn away, and it was past ten o’clock.  It would not do to wait until morning in a case like this, and so a servant was sent to the office of Dr. Hillhouse, with a request that he would come immediately.  She returned saying that the doctor was not at home.

Mrs. Ridley lay with her eyes shut, but the nurse knew by the expression of her face that she was not asleep.  The paleness of her countenance had given way to a fever hue, and she noticed occasional restless movements of the hands, twitches of the eyelids and nervous starts.  To her questions the patient gave no satisfactory answers.

An hour elapsed, and still the doctor did not make his appearance.  The servant was called and questioned.  She was positive about having left word for the doctor to come immediately on returning home.

“Is that snow?” inquired Mrs. Ridley, starting up in bed and listening.  The wind had risen suddenly and swept in a gusty dash against the windows, rattling on the glass the fine hard grains which had been falling for some time.

She remained leaning on her arm and listening for some moments, while an almost frightened look came into her face.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“After eleven o’clock,” replied the nurse.

All at once the storm seemed to have awakened into a wild fury.  More loudly it rushed and roared and dashed its sand-like snow against the windows of Mrs. Ridley’s chamber.  The sick woman shivered and the fever-flush died out of her face.

“You must lie down!” said the nurse, speaking with decision and putting her hands on Mrs. Ridley to press her back.  But the latter resisted.

“Indeed, indeed, ma’am,” urged the nurse, showing great anxiety, “you must lie down and keep covered up in bed.  It might be the death of you.”

“Oh, that’s awful!” exclaimed Mrs. Ridley as the wind went howling by and the snow came in heavier gusts against the windows.  “Past eleven, did you say?”

“Yes, ma’am, and the doctor ought to have been here long ago.  I wonder why he doesn’t come?”

“Hark! wasn’t that our bell?” cried Mrs. Ridley, bending forward in a listening attitude.

The nurse opened the chamber door and stood hearkening for a moment or two.  Not hearing the servant stir, she ran quickly down stairs to the street door and drew it open, but found no one.

There was a look of suspense and fear in Mrs. Ridley’s face when the nurse came back: 

“Who was it?”

“No one,” replied the nurse.  “The wind deceived you.”