A. L. O. E.'s picture story book.

by A. L. O. E.

"But she has never missed her Sunday teaching once," said one of the boys.

"No, she'd come to that, if she were able to crawl," observed Sam; "that wasn't a pleasure, but a duty."

"It might have been a pleasure too, if it had not been for some chaps," said an elder boy, glancing at Seth.

"I thought that teacher looked very pale last Sunday," observed Eli Barnes, who had been one of her most attentive pupils; "but then she had been so worried. I noticed that she twice put her hand to her side."

"It was on Friday night that she was took so bad, so very bad," said Sam. "Father was just turning into bed, when there was a rap at our door; one of the servants had come over to tell him to go off in haste for the doctor. You may guess as father was not long in getting ready, for the servant said as Miss Lee seemed to be dying. The doctor came in an hour, as fast as his horse could gallop, though 'twas raining and blowing like mad. I couldn't get to sleep till I'd heard what he said of our teacher; neither could father, when he got home all wet to the skin; he must go up to the Hall for news of the lady."

"And what did the doctor say?" asked several voices at once.

Sam Wright looked very grave as he answered, "The doctor don't much expect that she'll get over the fever."

Some of the boys uttered exclamations of regret, others sighed and said nothing. All of them turned from the closed door, feeling sorry to think that their teacher might never enter it again.

In the meantime Miss Lee was lying in bed in a darkened room, while the spring sun was shining so brightly, as if to invite all to come out and enjoy his beams. The few persons who entered that room moved about as noiselessly as if they were shadows, for the poor patient was in a burning fever, and the sound of a step, or the rustle of a dress, would have been to her most distressing. No one spoke to Miss Lee, not even to ask her how she felt, for the fever had mounted into her brain, and the sufferer knew nothing of what was passing around her.

The teacher's mind was, however, still working, and even in delirium, she showed what had been the uppermost care on her mind. From the lips so parched and blackened by fever, words continually burst, though she who uttered them knew not what she was saying. The sick-nurse little guess why the patient grasped her own bed-clothes so tightly, and again and again cried out in a tone of distress, "I'll not let you go, little one; I'll not let you go!"