“Hardly,” was the reply:  “certainly none for the worse.”

“Will she get over it, do you think?” The father’s tones were unsteady as he asked the question.

“My dear captain, it is impossible to tell yet,” Arthur said feelingly; “but we must try to hope for the best.”

Their hands met in a warm clasp.

“I shall certainly do so,” the captain said.  “But you are not going to leave us,—­especially not in this storm?”

“No:  I expect to pass the night in the house, ready to be summoned at a moment’s notice, should any change take place.”

“Thank you:  it will be a great satisfaction to us to know we have you close at hand.”  And the captain turned and entered the nursery, which Arthur had just left.

Violet, seated by the side of the crib where her baby lay, looked up on her husband’s entrance, greeting him with a smile of mingled love and sadness.

“Your dear presence is such a comfort and support!” she murmured as he drew near.  “I don’t like to lose sight of you for a single moment.”

“Nor I of you, dearest,” he answered, bending down to kiss her pale cheek, then taking a seat close beside her; “but I had to seek solitude for a time while fighting a battle with myself.  Since that I have been with Lulu.”

He concluded with a heavy sigh, and for a moment both were silent; then he said with grave tenderness,—­

“I fear you will find it hard to forgive her:  it has been no easy thing for me to do so.”

“I cannot yet,” returned Violet, a hard look that he had never seen there before stealing over her face; “and that is an added distress, for ’if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.’  I think I can if my baby recovers; but should it—­be taken away—­or—­or, worse by far, live to be a constant sufferer—­oh, how can I ever forgive the author of that suffering!  Pray for me, my dear husband,” she sobbed, laying her head on his shoulder.

“I will, I do, my darling,” he whispered, passing his arm about her, and drawing her closer; “and I know the help you need will be given.

“‘Ask, and it shall be given you.’

“Perhaps it may aid the effort, if I tell you Lulu did not intentionally harm her little sister, and is greatly distressed at her state.  She thought it was Rosie’s dog pulling at her skirts; and I own that that explanation makes the sad affair a little less heart-rending to me, though I could not accept it as any excuse for an act done in a fury of passion, and have punished her very severely for it; that is, for her passion.  I think it is right, under the circumstances, that you should know that I have, and that it is my fixed purpose to keep her in solitary confinement, at least so long as the baby continues in a critical condition.”