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OUR FORTUNE.

"Very well. I'll be there directly."

Then followed several minutes, wherein I could distinctly hear him crossing and recrossing the floor, lifting heavy articles and setting them down again; and when at last he opened the door, he was so evidently surprised, not to say displeased, at the interruption, that I grew painfully confused.

That he wished to hide his annoyance was, however, apparent from his greeting.

"You must excuse me, Mrs. Lawrence," he said, "for keeping you waiting so long. You were so kind as to invite me into your room the other evening; and I cannot do less than return the compliment, though my place is not very inviting."

There was an overstrained effort at politeness in his manner, that was far from placing me at my case.

“Thank you," I stammered. “I did not intend to come in; I only came up to inquire if you were ill, having missed seeing you for several days."

"You are very kind, I'm sure, " he replied, absently, as though but slowly comprehending the fact that any one could take so much trouble on his account. "But I have not been ill, that is, but slightly; only very busy."

But even as he spoke, as though in contradiction of his words, he grew giddy, and was forced to grasp the door-frame for support.

Setting baby down on the floor, I assisted him to cross the room to his bed, where he sunk down exhausted.

It was, as he had said, a poor room, containing nothing but a few articles of absolute necessity, no attempt at ornament, or even moderate comfort being visible. Directly in front of the single window stood a table, over which was thrown a checked cover, evidently with a view to concealing something hidden underneath. I felt morally certain that it had been placed there during the time that I was waiting at the door; and as I glanced at the curious shapes by which it was pushed up and bulged out in places, I shuddered, being equally well convinced that the horrible noise I had heard had proceeded thence.

I had, however, but a moment for inspection, for the old man reviving made light of his attack, said that he was subject to such turns, would be quite well presently, and begged that I should trouble myself no further. Seeing that my presence only irritated him, I withdrew. But when an hour later I ventured up with a cup of tea, he was still lying upon the bed; and even my imperfect knowledge of sickness taught me that he was in the grasp of fever. That was the commencement of a protracted illness. Vainly I besought him to let me send for a physician. He would not consent, nor was it necessary after the first few days, for the disease assumed that form which is so often brought on by overwork and excitement, and for which there are no better remedies than rest and care.

But how was he to have the latter? That was the question! When I asked if he had any friends to whom I could send, the bitter despair of his reply pained me beyond description.

“Not a soul upon God's earth who cares whether I live or die!" he said; and throwing his worn, old hands above his head, he looked at me with an expression of hopeless misery that I have never seen equaled.

Well, there was nothing else to be done. I must undertake it myself. The most I could do was but little; but I could not know of a fellow creature being in such distress under the same roof with me without trying to mitigate his sufferings.

I used to go up several times a day with little comforts, and while there perform some of the many offices necessary in a sick-room ; and though he always remonstrated against my attentions, and depreciated his need of them, I knew that my services would be missed if discontinued, and learned to wish for no sweeter reward than the glad smile which lighted the weary face on my entrance.

“Bess," said my husband, one evening, as I knelt before the grate, browning a piece of toast for my patient, “I don't half like your conduct toward that old coon up garret, and I wish you'd stop."

"Surely, Harry!" I exclaimed, letting the fork drop in astonishment, “surely, you don't begrudge that poor old creature a slice of bread now and then!"

“No!" thundered Harry, indignantly; “but what I do begrudge is, having you dancing attendance upon him as you do; for ought we know he may be a counterfeit, or worse. By your own admission there is something very mysterious about him ; and next thing you'll find yourself in a scrape that may be hard to get out of——"

“Oh, Harry!" I interrupted, “it is long since I have thought of him otherwise than as a poor and lonely, but harmless old man. Come up with me and see him for yourself. I'm sure you will be of my opinion."

Harry grumbled a little about having a wife who would make him drag up three pair of stairs; but he is naturally kind-hearted, and by