"Yes," said Mr. Smith warmly; "and if you save him, Morton, you will have saved one who will be a great man some day. That boy has an artist's soul within him; he will rise to fame."
"I should like to save him for the sake of that little patient maiden who is watching him. What a touching face the child has, and how she seemed to be hanging on every look of mine!"
"Poor little Madge, she loves him better than herself."
For a few days, Raymond hung between life and death; then Dr. Morton's face looked even graver than before. Madge saw that he had no hope.
On Sunday evening, she was sitting beside her brother, watching the fluttering breath, which seemed every instant as if it must cease altogether; when suddenly Raymond opened his eyes. "Madge."
"I've been asleep a long time, and I'm so tired."
"You must try to sleep again, darling Raymond."
A bewildered look passed over the boy's face, then he said eagerly, "Madge, am I going to die?"
She put her face close down to his, and said gently, "We must not talk now, dear; try to sleep again."