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 "I hardly think it best," the invalid answered.

"I presume that my strange feelings are only sick fancies. Hark! what is that?"

It was the voice of the town-crier, as he passed the windows. Either Mr. Stone had forgotten to give the caution, or the man had mistaken the street. Susan was ready to sink to the floor. The crier was shouting at the top of his voice:

"Strayed from home yesterday evening, about six o'clock—"

At this point, the poor, startled daughter gained the window, and, by a slight tap, attracted the man's attention. She then made an imploring gesture, and shook her head at him. He seemed to understand, and stopped his cry.

"Why! what are you doing, Susan?" asked the sick one, who saw the movements of her daughter from the bed. "Why did you stop the crier? I wanted to hear who was lost; perhaps it is somebody whom I know."

"I thought that his terrible voice would disturb