286 MARTIN RATTLER.

seemed to fall asleep again; but in a few seconds she
opened her eyes and said, “ Martin, too, has been to
see me; but he does not come so often now. The
darling boy used always to come to me in my dreams.
But he never brings me food. Why does no one ever
bring me food? I am hungry.”

“Should you like food now, if I brought it to
you?” said Martin in a low voice.

«Yes, yes, bring me food; I am dying.”

Martin released her hand and glided gently out of
the room. In a few minutes he returned with a can
of warm soup and a roll, of which Aunt Dorothy
partook with an avidity that showed she had been in
urgent need. Immediately after she went to sleep,
and Martin sat upon the bed holding her hand in
both of his till she awoke, which she did in an hour
after, and again ate a little food. While she was
thus engaged the door opened and a young man
entered, who stated that he was a doctor, and had
been sent there by a policeman.

_“ There is no hope,” he said in a whisper, after
feeling her pulse ; “ the system is quite exhausted.”

“ Doctor? whispered Martin, seizing the young man
by the arm, “can nothing save her? I have money,
and can command anything that may do her good.”

‘The doctor shook his head. “ You may give her a