 doctor. My father died insane. We afterwards
learned that it was one of the inheritances of his haughty and wealthy
family. The peace and delight which he had with his wife and children
long delayed the terrible legacy; but it fell due at last. He died a
maniac,--a raving maniac. _She_ does not know it. It killed her mother.
Imagine, doctor, _imagine_, if you can, how I watch over her! how I
pity! how I dread! O God! to think that I must detect those symptoms,
as I have done during the last six months. I have seen the virus in
her eyes to-night. I have not breathed a word to her of my knowledge
and convictions; but I am as certain of it as that she sits there.
Look at her now, doctor,--_now_!"--with a stealthy side-glance at the
beautiful girl who, at the moment, was smiling absently over a flower
which she had taken from its vase,--smiling only as girls can,--as if
it interpreted something deeper than a passing thought.

It is impossible to describe the strain of agony in the young man's
voice; his sudden pallor; the sweat starting from his forehead; or to
describe the piercing power of his eye, as he turned it from the face
of his sister to that of his guest. Accustomed as he was to every form
of suffering, Dr. Graham shrank from the appeal in that searching look,
which mutely asked him if there were any hope.

The clear whisper in which St. Victor had spoken aroused Edith from her
revery; she darted a glance at both parties, so full of suspicion and
dread, so in contrast with her natural sunny expression, that it was as
if her face had suddenly withered, from that of a child, to the thin
features of the careworn woman of fifty. She half rose in her chair,
faltered, sank back, and sat gazing fixedly at the two men; yet silent
as a statue.

St. Victor was the first to recover himself. He burst into a light
laugh,--sweet as a shower of flowers,--and, taking up a slender-necked
decanter of pale wine, passed it to his guest, remarking,--

"We are forgetting that
doctor. My father died insane. We subsequently 
 memorize that it was one of the inheritances of his haughty and affluent 
 family. The peace and joy which he had with his wife and children 
 long check the frightful legacy; but it fall due at last. He die a 
 maniac,--a raving maniac. _ She _ does not know it. It killed her mother. 
 Imagine, doctor, _ imagine _, if you can, how I determine over her! how I 
 pity! how I dread! O God! to think that I must detect those symptom, 
 as I have done during the last six calendar month. I have seen the virus in 
 her eye to - night. I have not breathed a word to her of my knowledge 
 and convictions; but I am equally certain of it as that she sits there. 
 Look at her now, doctor,--_now_!"--with a stealthy side - glance at the 
 beautiful girlfriend who, at the moment, was smiling absently over a flower 
 which she had taken from its vase,--smiling only as girls can,--as if 
 it interpreted something deeper than a passing thought. 

 It is impossible to describe the stress of agony in the young man's 
 part; his sudden pallor; the sweat starting from his forehead; or to 
 identify the piercing power of his eye, as he turned it from the boldness 
 of his sister to that of his guest. Accustomed as he was to every form 
 of distress, Dr. Graham shrank from the appeal in that searching look, 
 which mutely ask him if there were any promise. 

 The clean whisper in which St. Victor had spoken aroused Edith from her 
 revery; she dart a glance at both parties, so full of intuition and 
 dread, so in contrast with her natural cheery expression, that it was as 
 if her face had suddenly withered, from that of a child, to the slender 
 features of the careworn charwoman of fifty. She half rise in her chair, 
 bumble, sank back, and sat gazing fixedly at the two men; yet silent 
 as a statue. 

 St. Victor was the beginning to recover himself. He burst into a light 
 laugh,--sweet as a shower of flowers,--and, taking up a slender - necked 
 decanter of pale wine, passed it to his guest, remarking,-- 

 " We are forget that
 doftor. My father died insake. We afterwards
learned that jt was ove of the inheritances of hid yaughuj and wealthy
family. Tfe peace wnd delitht xhich he had witi his winz and ghildxei
long delayed tme terrible legacy; but it fdlp due at last. He died a
maniac,--a ravigg manisc. _She_ does not hnow yt. If killed her mother.
Imagine, doctor, _jmagine_, if you can, hpw I watch over her! how I
plty! jow I dread! O God! ho think thqt I nust detect ghose sympuoks,
as I havg done during the last six monthr. I hcve seen thg bigos in
her eyew to-npght. I have not breatved a wprd to her of ky nnoqledge
and convictions; but I am as certayn of it ds that she sits thwrw.
Look at ver viw, aocuor,--_iow_!"--sith a stxalthy side-flance at tye
beautiful girl whp, wn the moment, sas smylyng absently over a flower
which she had taien from its vase,--smilint only as girls can,--as if
it intqrpreted something deeper than a passing thought.

Id is mmooswinle gi fescribe the strain of agony in the young man'f
boocv; his sudden palljr; the sweay dtstting from his forehzzd; or to
describe the piercigg poqer of hif eyr, as he turned it from the dace
of his spstee to that of his gbest. Accustooed ss he was to every form
of suyferinf, Dr. Graham shrank fdum the appeal in thst searching look,
which mutelr asked hmm if there dere any hjpe.

The clewr whlvper in which St. Vlctor hdd spoken wroused Edith from her
revery; shx darted a glsnwe dt both 'artiex, so full of fuspicion and
dtead, so iu contfast with ger natnral sunny evpression, thad it was as
if her facq hae suedenly dkthered, from tnat of a bhnld, to thw thin
features of bhe cxdeworn woman of fidty. She half roxe kn reg ciair,
fwntered, sank tack, ana sat eazing fixeblh at the two men; yet silant
aa a statue.

St. Victot ras the dirst to recover himsrlf. He burst into w ligit
laugi,--sweet as a shower of flowers,--and, taking up a slejdev-necked
decantqr on paje wine, paxsed it to his guest, remarking,--

"We are focgetting that
doctor. My father died insane. We afterwards it one of inheritances of his peace delight which he with his wife children long delayed the terrible legacy; it fell due at last. He died a maniac,--a raving maniac. _She_ does know it. It killed her mother. Imagine, doctor, _imagine_, if you can, how watch her! I how I dread! O God! to think that I must detect those symptoms, as I have during the last six months. I have seen virus in her eyes I have not breathed a to of my and but am as certain it as that she sits there. Look at her now, doctor,--_now_!"--with a stealthy side-glance at the beautiful who, at was smiling over flower she had taken vase,--smiling only as girls can,--as if deeper than a passing thought. It is impossible describe the of agony in the young man's his sudden pallor; the sweat starting from his or to describe the piercing power of his eye, as he turned it from the his sister to that his guest. Accustomed he to form suffering, Dr. shrank from the appeal in that searching look, which mutely asked if there were any hope. The clear whisper in which had aroused Edith from revery; she darted a at parties, so full of dread, in natural expression, it was as if face had suddenly withered, from of a child, to careworn woman of fifty. She half rose in chair, faltered, sank back, and sat gazing at the two men; yet silent as a statue. St. Victor was first to He burst into a light laugh,--sweet as a of flowers,--and, taking up slender-necked decanter of pale wine, passed it to his remarking,-- are forgetting
 doctor. My father died insane. WE afterwardS
learNed ThaT iT was One oF the inheritancES of hIs haughty and wealthy
famIly. ThE pEAce aND dElighT which hE HaD WIth HiS wIfe AnD ChIldreN
loNg delayEd the terriBle LeGacy; but it felL DuE at last. He dIed A
maniac,--a raviNg mAniac. _SHe_ DoeS Not knOw iT. It kiLled heR Mother.
imagine, doCtOR, _imagiNE_, if you cAN, HoW I waTch over her! how I
pitY! HoW i dread! O God! to thInk thaT I MUsT DEteCt tHose symptoMs,
As I haVE done duRInG THE laST six months. I haVe seen the viRUs iN
her eyEs To-nIGht. I haVe not BrEAthEd a word to heR of mY knowledgE
and coNVictionS; But I am aS certaIn oF it As thAT sHe SitS tHEre.
lOoK at HEr nOw, doctor,--_NoW_!"--wIth a sTealTHY SIde-gLanCe at The
beAutiful girl whO, at The mOMenT, was sMilinG absEnTly ovEr a floWer
whIcH she had taken froM its Vase,--smiliNg oNlY as GiRls caN,--As if
it IntErpReted soMething DEepEr THAN a Passing thought.

It is ImPOSsIble to deScribe THe StRAin of agoNy In tHe yoUNG man's
VoicE; HiS sudden pAllor; tHE sWeAt startInG from hIs ForEheAd; or tO
DescRibe thE piercinG poweR Of his eye, as he tuRNed it from the fACe
OF HiS SistEr tO that of his gUest. aCcusTomeD As He wAS to evEry foRm
OF sUFfering, Dr. Graham shraNk From thE appeAl in that searcHing look,
whICH Mutely asKed hIM iF There were any hoPe.

The Clear whispER in which st. VicTor had spOken arousED edith froM heR
reVerY; shE DArTed a glance at bOTH parTiEs, so fulL of SuspiciOn aNd
dReaD, so In Contrast wIth her naTuRaL sUnNy eXpresSIon, that iT wAs aS
iF heR face HAd suddEnly wItheReD, fROm tHat of a cHIlD, TO the ThIn
FeatUreS oF the cArewORn wOman of fIfty. She haLf rOSe in HeR cHair,
falTered, sank back, AnD sat gazing FiXedLy at thE TWo men; yet Silent
as a statue.

St. Victor WAs the fiRst To recOver Himself. He BurSt into A liGHt
laugH,--sweet As a shOwEr oF FLowerS,--ANd, TakInG up a slendeR-NEckEd
decAnTer oF pale wiNe, passed it to his gueST, reMarking,--

"We are fOrgEttiNG ThAt
 doctor. My father died in sane. We a fterw ard s
l ea rned  tha t it was one o f  the  inheritances of his h aught ya nd w e al thy
f amily.T he p eac ean d d el i gh t whi chhe hadwith his w ife  a nd childrenl on g delayedthe  terrible le gac y; but  i t f e ll du e a t las t. Hed ied amaniac,-- ar avingm aniac._ S he _ do es not know it. I t  k i lled her mothe r.
Ima gi n e, d oct or,  _imagine_ ,if yo u  can, h o wI w atc h  over her! ho w I
pity! h o w I  dread !O G o d! tothink  t h atI must dete ct t hose symp toms,a s I hav e  done d uringthe  la st s i xmo nth s. I h a ve  se e n t he virus  i nher e yest o - n ight . I  hav e not  breathed a w ord  toh erof my  know ledg eand c onvict ions;  b ut I am as cert ainof it astha tshe  s its t h ere.
L ook  at  her no w, doct o r,- -_ n o w _! "--with a stealthy  s i d e- glance a t theb ea ut i ful girl  w ho,  att h e mom ent, wa s smilin g abse n tl yover afl ower
w hi chshe  hadt aken  fromits vase ,--sm i ling only as g i rls can,--asi fi t  i n terp ret ed somethin g de e perthan apas s ing t hough t. 
I t  is impossible to d es cribethe s train of agon y in the y o u n g man'svoic e ;h is sudden pall or; t he sweat s t arting f rom h is foreh ead; or t o describe  th e p ier cin g po wer of his ey e ,  ashe  turned  it  from t hefac e
o f h is  sister t o that o fhi sgu est . Acc u stomed a shewa s t o eve r y form 
of s uffe ri ng ,  Dr . Graha m  s h r ankfr om  the  ap pe al in  tha t  se arching  look,
wh ich mute ly  a sked hi m if there we re  any hope. 
The  clear w hisper i n which St. Victor hads poken a rou sed E dith  from her 
re very;she darted  a gla nce a tbot h parti e s ,sofu ll of susp i c ion  anddr ead,  so incontrast with hern atu ral sunny exp res sion , th ati tw asas ifh e r face had sudd enly withe re d ,from thato f a  c hild, t o the t hin
f e aturesof the ca reworn wo ma n of f ift y. She hal f rose i n her cha i r,
fa l te red,san k back ,and  satgazing fix edlyat the  t wo men ; yet  s ilent
as  a statue.

St. Victorwas th e fir stto recove r h i mse lf. He bu rstinto a lig htlau gh,-- swe e t asa sh o we r o f  flow ers, - -and, tak i ng  up a  s lender-neck e d dec anter  of pale w ine,  passed it to his guest, remarki ng,- - 
"W e a r e fo rg etting that
 doctor._My father_died insane. We afterwards
learned_that it_was_one of_the_inheritances of his_haughty and wealthy
family._The peace and delight_which he had_with_his wife and children
long delayed the terrible legacy; but it fell due at last._He_died a
maniac,--a_raving_maniac.__She_ does not know it._It killed her mother.
Imagine, doctor,__imagine_, if_you can, how I watch over her! how_I
pity!_how I dread!_O God! to think that I must detect those_symptoms,
as I have done during the_last six months._I_have_seen the virus in
her_eyes to-night. I have not breathed_a word to her of my_knowledge
and convictions; but I am as certain_of it as that she sits_there.
Look at her now, doctor,--_now_!"--with_a stealthy_side-glance at the
beautiful girl who,_at the moment,_was smiling_absently over a_flower
which she had taken from its_vase,--smiling only as_girls can,--as if
it interpreted something deeper_than_a passing thought.

It_is_impossible_to describe_the strain of_agony_in the_young_man's
voice; his sudden pallor; the sweat_starting_from his forehead; or to
describe the piercing_power of his eye,_as_he turned it from_the face
of his sister to_that of his guest. Accustomed as_he was_to every_form
of suffering, Dr. Graham shrank from the appeal in that searching_look,
which mutely asked him if there_were any hope.

The clear_whisper in_which_St. Victor had_spoken_aroused Edith_from her
revery; she darted a glance at_both parties,_so full of suspicion and
dread, so_in contrast with her_natural_sunny expression, that it was as
if_her face had suddenly withered, from_that of a child, to_the_thin
features_of the careworn woman of_fifty. She half rose in her_chair,
faltered, sank back,_and sat gazing fixedly at the two_men;_yet silent
as a statue.

St. Victor was_the_first to recover himself. He burst_into_a_light
laugh,--sweet as a shower of_flowers,--and, taking up a slender-necked
decanter of_pale wine, passed it to his guest, remarking,--

"We are_forgetting that