"I s'pose the twinnies have grown ever so much, Father," she remarked one evening when she was able to sit up in a big arm chair.

"Well, I have not seen Mother letting out any tucks or hems in their dresses; but," and Mr. Selwyn's eyes danced, "I must admit that they are somewhat better-looking."

Surely, the little bird must have been at Maryvale that day, and Mary thought it very strange that she had not caught a glimpse of it. She had seen some sparrows, robins, and thrushes; but she was quite sure that the particular little bird of which Aunt Mandy had so often spoken was different from any of these. It certainly had very large ears to be able to hear what she had whispered to her aunt when they were sitting at such a distance from the window. She started at a thought which came to her.

"Father, have you ever seen the little bird that tells Aunt Mandy so many things? Do you think it can hear what a person is just thinking about?"

Mr. Selwyn coughed to hide a smile.

"No, dear, I have never seen that particular little bird; and no one but God knows our thoughts unless we show them in our faces or actions."

"Please take me on your lap, Father, and tell me more about the babies. Has Beth any hair yet?"

"Only a little soft, yellow down; but Berta's is actually beginning to turn up at the ends in tiny, silky curls."

"Oh, she must look darling! Just forty-eight hours more—no, forty-seven, because it is exactly an hour since Uncle was here—and I can see them both again."

"So Uncle Frank said at dinner. That reminds me—here is a note for you from Mother."

"Please read it to me, Father. I can't read writing very well, though Mother tries to make hers plain. Besides, Uncle has asked me not to look closely at anything until my eyes are stronger. They have been so weak that I had to ask Sister to keep the shades down. But she thought it would be too bad to shut out the sunshine; so sometimes she bandaged my eyes and let the shades roll all the way up to the top.

"Then we played a game something like the little boy who was half-past three played with his grandmother, only ours was Blind Man's Buff. Of course, I couldn't go catch Sister, but I tried to guess where she was; and when I guessed right, she was 'it.' Then I would pretend that I was somewhere, and Sister had to guess. She had a much harder time than I had, because I could pretend to be up the chimney or on top of the wardrobe or in ever so many places where I knew she couldn't be when I was 'it.' But please read Mother's letter. She has written to me every day since I came up here," and the little girl snuggled close to her father while he read the following:

My Darling,

Uncle has just told us the good news. It will not do you any harm now to know how much we have missed you. Aunt Mandy said to me to-day that she cannot understand how you always succeeded in putting the babies to sleep when she failed to do so; but I think I know the secret.

The babies are growing more cunning every day. Two or three days ago, Beth discovered that she has fingers; and this morning when I was dressing her, she kicked up one little foot and caught hold of her toes. Then I found Berta holding on to both ears. But I must not tell you all the surprises we have for you.

I have gone into your room very often. It makes me think of a pretty nest from which the little bird has flown. But the wings of my little bluebird are not strong enough to carry her very far away, so she is coming back to the nest again. I shall give Father a kiss and a hug to carry to my birdie away up in the treetop.

Mother.

"And here are a kiss—and a hug—to carry down to Mother; but before you give them to her, you must walk around the block to let the wind blow the measles off of you."

"There, there, dear, you must not exert yourself so much. You are not quite strong enough to give such bear hugs."

"Well, well, well! Not in bed yet? I was almost sure that I heard you snore as I came upstairs."

"Uncle! I am going to ask Sister Julia if I snore when I am asleep."

"You certainly do not do so while you are awake. But perhaps it was Snowball that I heard. She is asleep on the lowest step."

"Poor little Snowball! I do hope Debby is taking good care of her. Is she very black, Uncle?"

"Who? Debby or the kitten?"

"Why, the kitten, of course. Debby is s'posed to be black, but Snowball is s'posed to be white."

"I see. Well, set your mind at rest, pet, for your kitten looks her name to perfection, curled up as she now is. Indeed, for a moment I was on the point of bringing her up here to wash your face and coax a little color into it. Oh, another thing! I noticed that she has quite a jaunty bow of ribbon on her neck. You would have the nightmare if I should tell you what color it is."

"Every color looks pretty on Snowball. I think the ribbon must be pink, because Debby likes pink herself. No?" as the Doctor shook his head. "Red, then. Debby likes red, too."

"I suppose I may as well tell you. It is yellow! A glorious, golden yellow."

"How lovely! Yes, Uncle, I mean it. I think yellow is a beautiful color; but it wouldn't do for me to wear it, you know. Why, the sun and moon and stars and Dick and ever so many of my favorite flowers are yellow, so you can't tease me about that color."

"I am a naughty old chap to tease you about anything. Come, Rob, it is long past her bedtime. It will be a case of

sang the jolly man.

On the way down stairs he said, "As far as the measles are concerned, she could be with the family now; but she is weaker than I like to see her, and the little excitement of being with the babies again would be more than is good for her at present. So I have put her off another two days. She will not try to exert herself as much with Sister Julia as she would down stairs. She is getting along better, however, than I expected, for she has had a pretty severe attack; but I have every reason now to hope that it will leave no bad effects."

"How about her eyes? is the sight in any danger?" was the father's anxious question.

"Not now. The disease often affects the eyes; but Sister Julia has been very careful, and the danger is passed. We may all go to sleep to-night with light hearts."

Ah, how little the wisest of us know! How little we suspect what the next hour may bring!

The tick-tock——tick-tock——of the big clock at the foot of the stairs was the only sound that broke the stillness of the night. Midnight came and went.——One o'clock——two o'clock——a piercing scream rang through the silent house! The Doctor, whose room was nearest the stairs, was the first to reach the sick room. He found the little girl in the nurse's arms, imploring her to chase away the man with the terrible knife.

"He stuck it——into me——Uncle! 'Way, 'way into—my side! Oo! It's there yet!—Take it out, Uncle! please take it out! Oh! oh! oh!"

"There, there, darling! No, no! there is no knife. It is only a bad dream," soothed the nurse.

"But it hurts, Sister!—--Oo, oo! Ouch!—--every time——I breathe. Take it out! Oh, Uncle——please take it out!"

"There is absolutely nothing there, pet,—nothing! Sister is right. You have been lying in a cramped position which caused a pain in your side and made you dream of the man with a knife. Lie down and let Sister rub the place where you feel the pain."

But though the Doctor made light of the matter to the little girl, his sister and brother-in-law saw the anxiety written in every line of his face. Sister Julia, too, looked worried as she tried to soothe the moaning child.

"M—Mother!"

"Yes, darling, yes!"

"It hurts so, Mother—oo!—oo! It shoots—right through me. I'm wide awake now, Mother, so—why doesn't it go—away? Oh, oh!"

"She has been restless all night, Doctor,"—Sister Julia had left the little girl to her mother's care for a moment—"so restless that I disobeyed your orders about going to bed myself and remained beside her for fear she would throw off the covering and take cold. She has not been quiet long enough for the muscles to cramp——"

"I know, Sister, I know. I said that merely to quiet her. This is what I have feared all along. She is a frail mite, but I really thought that we had pulled her over the danger line. I hope it is nothing worse than pleurisy. We shall try hot applications first. I shall be back in a moment."

Sister Julia busied herself heating water and making other preparations; and the Doctor soon returned with his "telephone," as Mary called the instrument with which he had several times listened to her lungs.

"Now, dear, let me see whether I can find out just where the pain is——"

"Oh, it is right here, Uncle! On both sides right where my hands are—you don't need to listen—and it shoots—through me and—comes out under those bones—where the angels' wings grow."

"But we can do more to relieve the pain if I listen for a few minutes, pet."

The father and mother did not take their eyes off his face, which grew more and more grave. By the time he had finished the examination, there was little need for him to call the nurse to the bedside and motion them into the hall.

"I shall be perfectly honest with you," he began, "for I know that you are prepared for the worst. I fear pneumonia, but hope that we have caught the trouble in time. I can tell you nothing definite for some hours. The condition in which I find her now is the very one which Sister Julia and I have been guarding against; but I was so sure that all danger was past that I told Sister, when I came home this evening, to change her program and, instead of going to rest at that time and leaving Mary to us, Rob, to go to bed as soon as she had tucked her in for the night. This she did not do, but remained at the bedside until we came up, just as she has done every night from eleven o'clock on.

"With any other nurse, I might fear that some neglect had brought matters to this pass; but not with Sister Julia. She is a wonderful nurse, and we are blessed to have her, especially now. I have never lost a pneumonia patient when she was on the case. So we shall hope for the very best."

But though the Doctor tried to speak cheerfully, a cold fear gripped the hearts of all.