There was barely room for me, slender as I was, for the carriage was constructed for the accommodation of the doctor alone; but I did not feel embarrassed, or as if I were intruding.

He drove very rapidly, conversing the whole time in a pleasant, cheering voice.
"Peggy must be a very valuable person," he said, "for you to venture out so bravely in her cause.

We must cure her, by all means." I expatiated on her virtues with all the eloquence of gratitude.
Something must have emboldened my shy tongue,--something more than the hope, born of the doctor's heart-reviving words.
"He is come--he is come," I exclaimed, springing from the buggy to the threshold, with the quickness of lightning.
Oh! how dim and sickly and sad every thing appeared in that little chamber! I turned and looked at the doctor, wondering if he had ever entered one so sad before.

Peggy lay in an uneasy slumber, her arms thrown above her head, in a wild, uncomfortable attitude.

My mother sat leaning against the head of the bed, pale and statue-like, with her hand, white as marble, partly hidden in her dark and loosely braided hair.