William's feelings during this time would be impossible to portray in words. Sometimes anger, sometimes love, sometimes discouragement, sometimes hope swayed him. There was only one fact of which he was always sure; he had never before known what abject misery was. He used to think his home desolate; now he knew the much keener torture of having his loved one in the same habitation and yet being sternly and completely banished from her presence. It was even more disheartening than to have her at a distance.

He worried about Clarissa's health, and the effect so much excitement might have just at this time, especially, when she had gained strength so slowly under happier conditions. Sitting alone, he would work himself into a rage thinking of her injustice to him, when he had meant to do Augustus the most good that lay in his power. Then the thought would come "this nervous shock may make her sick, possibly take her from me." Dinah's assertions did not satisfy him. He wanted to see her. Dinah told him how his voice and step affected her, and he therefore used extreme caution about walking within range of her hearing, or speaking loudly.

Augustus' companionship would have been a welcome relief, but he dared not insist upon it, knowing Clarissa well enough to know she would misconstrue his motive and come after the boy, if the exertion meant her death.

Twice he reached the limit of his patience, and he made up his mind to hypnotize her. He would rather be with his family if they were all hypnotized, than to be isolated from them. How could he tell what she would do? She was liable to go away, even before she was able, taking the children with her.

This thought haunted him until he dared not leave the house. He felt that he had been a good, loving father and husband; a sick woman's whim should not separate them and ruin their lives again. It surprised him to know that Merle and Alice, who had always been such welcome visitors, were not admitted to see her or the children, and that Augustus was not permitted to go with them to their home.

He felt he had been lenient long enough. She needed discipline, and he would give it to her. Never before had he so completely thrown his whole heart and soul into concentration, as he did now, thinking "She shall do me credit. She shall send for me." The whole force of his soul was put into the demand.

Before beginning, he had made up his mind he would not pause nor rest till Dinah came with a message from Clarissa for him to come to her. One thing that enraged him to use his power was he had himself plucked her some rare blossoms, putting them, fraught with the influence of love, beside the food Dinah was carrying to her. He felt those flowers would carry to her the thought of his loneliness, and surely she would send him some token of remembrance. He watched, expecting Dinah would have at least a message for him when she returned.

He saw her coming, but did not wait for her to reach him, as he saw his flowers, lying undisturbed where he had placed them. Disappointment, so keen that it became rage, consumed his soul. He vowed he would break that haughty, and (he felt) unjust spirit, so he set himself to the task. How long he sat there he never knew.

He waited for Dinah to call him, and did not notice the approach of Augustus. He started up as a man in a dream when he heard the agonized cry:

"Papa, come quick; mamma is dying. Quick. Something is the matter with baby; that is what frightened mamma so. Do not let them die."

William heard the words. He saw distinctly the boy's horrified and suffering face, but he could not bring his mind back to the actualities of the present.

"Papa,—mamma is dying, and sister is dead—"

Without stopping to console or speak to Augustus, William strode rapidly from the apartment, ascending the stairs with long bounds, and was soon in his wife's room. No wonder they thought she was dying. He will never forget that drawn, suffering face. She was sitting up in the bed, sustained by pillows, panting and gasping for breath, and holding closely to her, her rigid baby, lifeless and cold. She did not notice him when he entered, for despite her own suffering, her eyes never left the baby's face.

"Clarissa."

At the sound of his voice, new strength seemed to come to her. Her eyes flashed, even while her breathing came shorter and shorter. The words were separated owing to her difficulty to breathe, but they were clear and calm.

"You have killed one. Are you satisfied?"

"Clarissa! My God! You think I killed my child?"

"I know it."

"My God! Oh, my God! Clarissa, do not look like that. You shall not die.—I say you shall not die. Clarissa—Clarissa—You shall not die cursing me. Clarissa, I defy death to take you. My will is stronger than yours. Live.—Breathe. Clarissa, I will you to breathe regularly. Breathe, I say. Breathe. You cannot and shall not leave me. I will you to breathe."

With his right hand placed upon her heart, he repeated over and over this command, telling Dinah occasionally to give her stimulants. It was a fierce struggle, and more than once he felt the utter cessation of her heart's action. He shook her roughly, even, rubbed her and willed her to breathe, until he was finally rewarded by noting the heart's action was becoming more normal and regular, though her eyes had set fixedly, and her arms refused to support the babe, as in one fierce struggle to breathe, she put one hand to her throat. That let the baby fall, and Dinah caught it. She was so distracted herself, she did not think when she gave it to Augustus, who had just entered.

The boy thought she was dead and his mother was dying. He hugged her close to him. She was cold; he tried to warm her by the heat of his own body; he was so frightened he felt no sense of terror, which would have been the natural sensation with him under different circumstances. He wanted sympathy he was so frightened, so he held his sister clasped tightly to him, with his eyes fastened upon his father and mother.

William worked as never before in his life, and gained the victory, seeing Clarissa pass into a natural sleep.

Then only did he realize the amount of strength he had expended. When he saw a natural perspiration break out upon her forehead, and her eyes close in sound, refreshing sleep, he was seized with a strong vertigo.

Dinah brought him a stimulant, and even while he was drinking it, his eyes did not leave Clarissa's face, and the unmistakable symptoms of returning physical vigor, as evidenced by her regular breathing, did more to restore his equanimity than the stimulant itself. The thought of his children had not once occurred to him.

Augustus had been watching him closely, and knew by the expression upon his face his mother was not dying, but better. That fact had no more than made itself clear to him, relieving him from one horror, than he became aware of the cold dead babe in his arms. His idol, his sister was dead!

As that thought bore itself home to him, there came an accompanying one. "Mamma was dying," he thought, "father saved her. He can do what other men cannot. He can bring her back to life."

His faith in his father was supreme. Death and science were both mysteries to him, but he had faith in his father's ability to conquer; he had seen him do it just now. Knowing his mother was all right by the expression on his father's face, he felt a strong resentment no one, not even Dinah, had noticed the baby. He was her only friend. He thought of her if no one else did. He would see to it she had as much attention as his mother. Women could take care of themselves better than babies. He hugged it closer to him, growing angry instead of sad, as he felt how cold she was. He had not one doubt as to his father's ability to do as well for it as for his mother.

He quickly directed his chair, with one hand, to his father, who did not look up as he approached, but stooped over Clarissa to test her heart's action again, although he knew from her breathing it was all right. He had been under such a tension, such a nervous strain, he was in just that mental condition where one goes from one extreme to the opposite, therefore feeling a touch upon his arm, he looked around to see Augustus with such a look of injured pride upon his face as caused him to feel a sense of humor. A glad smile brightened his face and he spoke cheerfully.

"She is going to stay with us a long time yet, my boy. If you had been a little later—My God! Dead!"

Without a word, Augustus passed the baby forward for his father to take. William had not thought of the baby. There it lay in his arms, inanimate, cold—undoubtedly dead. That was what Clarissa had meant when he entered. Why should she condemn him for murdering it? He had not thought of the baby so much as he should have done. What would Clarissa say when she awoke and found her baby dead? One thing he knew; she would always hold him responsible for her death, though he was as innocent of it as Augustus.

The dead baby between them meant the loss of Clarissa forever. The children had always come between them. Her best love was theirs. He at once made the resolve Clarissa must find that babe alive and warm beside her when she awoke. He never paused to consider he could not raise the dead.

This new obstacle restored to him his customary self-control, and stooping with the babe in his arms, he kissed Clarissa softly and tenderly, and without a word, placed the baby back in Augustus' arms, who clasped it tightly to him, looking at his father with that same injured look William did not try to explain or understand. His mind was too busy with other thoughts.

He had determined the child should waken. He could not, and would not bear the unjust stigma of its death. He hastily explained to Dinah he would soon bring the child to her, and commanded her not to leave Clarissa, telling her to let him know if there was any change in her.

Dinah's faith in William was as strong as that of Augustus, and, as he had said that he would bring the baby to her well, she believed him implicitly. That feat would be no more wonderful than what he had just done for Mistress Clarissa.

After giving his directions, William leaned over with a pleasant smile, and took both children in his arms, carrying them to his private room. On his way, he met James and a strange gentleman. They were going towards Clarissa's room. To William's surprised look, James answered, "Master, this is the doctor Mistress sent for. She told me to bring him to her at once."

A hot wave of emotion passed over William's face, that a strange physician should be consulted, and have the privilege of entering his wife's room without his consent. Without looking at the doctor, he said:

"Show him into the reception room. I will be there soon."

"Mistress Clarissa said for me to bring him to her at once."

"She is sleeping. I just left her, and do not wish her disturbed. I will come to the doctor in—"

"Father! She moved—she moved!"

There was such exultation in Augustus' voice when he spoke, that James and the stranger, despite their best efforts to look and appear unconcerned, could not help showing astonishment.

"It is gone now, but she did. Hurry, father, hurry. Make her move again."

The boy was beside himself with emotion. He was sure he had felt a nestling motion in his idol. He was impatient to see her eyes open. She was still cold. He thought she was not quite so cold as she had been.

William noted the looks of astonishment, but felt no desire to explain. He spoke sharply to James:

"Take the Doctor to the reception room. I will come there as soon as I have attended to Augustus, who is nervous and excited."

James dared not disobey his master, so he led the physician back, while William, with his children, went into his study. Augustus was so excited that his face flushed and his whole body trembled; his eyes flashed brilliantly.

"She did move, father,—I felt it. Make her move again. She is not so cold as she was. I want to see her eyes open, father."

"Yes, my son. Now remain quiet. What! You will not trust her to me?"

"I want to hold her."

"Do not hold her so tightly. I cannot work on her if you do. There; now you can rub her feet, while I do her spine."

"She moved again, father. I felt it. Make her open her eyes."

"No, my boy, we will be content if she sleeps, like her mother. She is becoming less rigid. Rub them vigorously. There. Her eyes opened just as her lungs did. We cannot feed her. What shall we do?"

"I knew you would save her, father. I love to hear her cry. She shall have something to eat. Will you carry us back to mamma, now?"

Without comment, William took them up, and started back, happy that Clarissa would find her baby beside her, warm and living, when she woke. Just before they reached her room, Augustus spoke:

"Father, I think sister will have as bad a temper as mine. I like to hear her cry, but I think she is angry; do not you?"

"It sounds like it, my son."

"I expect she does not realize she would have died if you and I had not taken care of her. It's a wonder I ever lived to grow up when Dinah is so careless."

Hearing the baby crying, Dinah immediately took her from Augustus, and put her beside her mother, who was still sleeping. William put Augustus in his chair, where he could watch both mother and babe. He turned toward the bed just in time to see the glad surprise upon Clarissa's face as she heard the fretful cry of the baby. Never was music so sweet as that. She drew the baby to her, and as she leaned to kiss her, William left the room.

He went directly to the reception room, where the doctor was waiting for him. He was by no means pleased a strange physician had been called in. If she was ill and unwilling to have him treat her, why did she not send for Baxter or Harrington? What would they think if they heard of this? What a position it placed him in. He could not, and would not explain to any person (even them) this last estrangement in his family. He would conquer Clarissa's haughty spirit. Now was a good time for him to begin. Entering the room, he bowed and said:

"I am happy to inform you the indisposition from which my wife was suffering when she summoned you, has passed away. She is now resting comfortably. We appreciate your compliance. I will now discharge our obligation and indebtedness to you, if you will apprise me of the amount."

The doctor was surprised at his dismissal, without even a look at the patient, but no more so than at the summons to go to the Professor's house. He thought it very strange that he should be called there, knowing the Professor was the intimate friend of several prominent practitioners. He felt greatly flattered at the call, but now he was dismissed without so much as seeing the patient.

He quickly took his leave, after expressing gratification at the recovery of Mrs. Huskins, and receiving a larger fee than he had asked "as a reward for his promptness," as William told him.

Relieved of his presence, William went back to his study to try to work out to his own satisfaction, the cause of the horrible scene he had just passed through. That seemed the only word capable of expressing the torture of mind he endured when he saw that look so closely resembling death upon Clarissa's face. How he had fought to conquer that condition. How many more such problems must he meet? Could he always conquer them as he had this?