He hid himself in his room, as was his wont when disappointed, and went on with his old work at his beloved microbes.
"I have one hope still," Hilda murmured to me by the bedside, when our patient was at her worst.

"If one contingency occurs, I believe we may save her." "What is that ?" I asked.
She shook her head waywardly.

"You must wait and see," she answered.

"If it comes off, I will tell you.

If not, let it swell the limbo of lost inspirations." Next morning early, however, she came up to me with a radiant face, holding a newspaper in her hand.