“There is nothing here that will hurt you, father,” Mary added, coming up to him, as her own mind arrived at a conclusion similar to her mother’s.

“Nothing to hurt me!” suddenly screamed the old man, springing to his feet, and throwing himself backwards half across the room; “and that horrible creature already twining himself about my neck, and strangling me!  Take it off! take it off!” he continued, in a wild cry of terror, making strong efforts to tear something away from his throat.

“Take it off’!  Why don’t you take it off!  Don’t you see that it is choking me to death!  Oh! oh! oh!” (uttered in a terrific scream.)

Panting, screaming and struggling, he continued in this state of awful alarm, vainly endeavouring to extricate himself from the toils of an imaginary monster, that was suffocating him, until he sank exhausted to the floor.

Happily for his alarmed and distressed family, two or three neighbours, who had been startled by the old man’s screams,—­came hurriedly in, and soon comprehended the nature of his aberration.  A brief consultation among themselves determined them, understanding, as they did perfectly, the condition of the family, and his relation to them, to remove him at once to the Alms-House, where he could get judicious medical treatment, and be out of the sight and hearing of his wife and children.

One of them briefly explained to Mrs. Graham, and Mary, the nature of his mental affection, and the absolute necessity that there was for his being placed where the most skilful and judicious management of his case could be had.  After some time, he gained their reluctant consent to have him taken to the Alms-House.  A carriage was then obtained, and he forced into it, amid the tears and remonstrances of the wife and daughter, who had already repented of their acquiescence in what their judgment had approved.  Old affection had rushed back upon their hearts, and feelings became stronger than reason.

It was about four o’clock in the afternoon when this occurred.  Early on the next morning, Mrs. Graham, with Mary and Anna, went out to see him.  Their inquiries about his condition were vaguely answered, and with seeming reluctance, or as it appeared to them, with indifference.  At length the matron of the institution asked them to go with her, and they followed on, through halls and galleries, until they came to a room, the door of which she opened, with a silent indication for them to enter.

They entered alone.  Everything was hushed, and the silence that of the chamber of death.  In the centre of the room lay the old man.  A single glance told the fearful tale.  He was dead!  Dead in the pauper’s home!  Seven years before, a millionaire—­now sleeping his last sleep in the dead-room of an Alms-House, and his beggared wife and children weeping over him in heart-broken and hopeless sorrow.

From that time the energies of Mary and Anna seemed paralyzed; and it was only with a strong effort that Mrs. Graham could rouse herself from the stupor of mind and body that had settled upon her.