Should the case be lengthened, or the nurse feel herself unequal to what is certainly trying work, she can best help her patient by placing it in bed, supported by one of those netted hammocks we referred to in a former paper.

This will give a feeling of security; and by careful watching, the nurse should be able, at the instant of waking, to take its little hands in hers and speak soothing words, which shall dispel its terrors. If the face is a well-known one, the effect will be greater; and for this reason, home-nursing has a decided advantage; but where there is no excessive fright, it might almost be said that in the majority of cases most children have a better chance with any sensible stranger, than with mother or nursemaid; children are so very quick to find out who has to be obeyed, and are equally sharp in discovering the advantage to be taken of love unbalanced by wisdom. I have seen a small child, threatened with bronchitis, refuse to allow mother or nurse to give her her medicine, or the prescribed hot bath; and instead of being well wrapped up and poulticed, she insisted upon being carried about on a chilly night without extra covering; yet, with a kindly stranger, the same child became a model of propriety, and took her medicine without a murmur.

In home-nursing, there is sometimes difficulty in keeping a child who is not very ill, in bed; and I have heard it gravely said: Yes, I know Tommy ought to be in bed; the doctor was saying so this morning; but it's no good, for he won't keep there.' Imagine the work of a hospital ward, if the small patients wouldn't stay in bed! The plan in such places is, to let all the children who are well enough sit up in bed, well wrapped up, and with their toys on a sliding tray, pushed close up to them; and I would advise those mothers who spoil and pamper their children in illness, to pay a visit to any hospital, and see how happily even the tiniest will amuse themselves for hours, though the chances are ten to one those same children would whine and fret to any extent if by so doing they could draw attention to every whim and fancy. This applies, of course, to milder cases only. In serious illness, the child's utter helplessness demands the greatest care and watchfulness; and it must never be forgotten that a child is exquisitely sensitive to external influences, so that all we have said as to cleanliness, &c., applies with double_force to the nursing and tending of children. It must also be remembered that the skin is very delicate, and many a child has been terrified beyond expression by a too hot application; indeed, so true is this, that no counter-irritant should be used to a child without express orders from a doctor. In preparing a poultice even, a nurse should be very careful not to apply it as she would to an adult, and she should test its heat by her own face. If using for the first time, it will be well to put a piece of flannel between the poultice and the skin, removing it as the child becomes accustomed to the warmth. As a rule, the comfort of the poultice will soon be felt, and there will be no difficulty over a second application.

The same difficulty sometimes occurs in giving a warm bath. I have known children shriek

the whole time, and struggle so violently, that no possible good could result from what, properly managed, should be soothing and comforting. The trouble may arise from the memory of a too hot bath, or the rising steam may frighten a timid child. such cases is to prepare the bath out of sight, The best way of dealing with cover with a blanket, and gently lower the child into it, offering it at the same time a toy or cork to swim in the water; and it will be strange indeed if you have further trouble. But it is necessary, even with these precautions, to be very careful in getting the bath to the right temperature; this should be done by the use of a thermometer, according to the doctor's orders. Should a bath be needed in a hurry, the heat should be tested by the arm or elbow, never by the hand alone, which is far less sensitive than protected skin.

One word of warning in regard to the adminis tration of remedies to children. If the nurse is asked whether the medicine is nasty or the blister will hurt, let the answer be the plain truth: 'It is disagreeable, but it will do you good,' and there may well be added the inducement of a harmless sweet or biscuit, if the medicine is well taken or the pain bravely borne. Apart from considerations of right and wrong, nothing is gained by attempting to deceive a child; you may succeed the first time, you certainly will not the second; and once lose a child's confidence, and you have lost your greatest hold upon it; whilst, if the child is quite sure you will not deceive it, it will trust you afterwards. Happy the nurse who so wins the love of her little charge, that an approving kiss or shake of the head shall be sufficient reward, or punishment.

In contrast to the special difficulties of nursing children, stand those which have reference to the aged. One or two things must be borne in mind in nursing old people. It generally happens that the faculties become more or less impaired, and the nurse must do her best to supply the deficiencies With the deaf, she must cultivate a clear way of speaking, and be quick to prevent misunder standings between her patient and his visitors With dimmed sight, she must be careful to place everything that he will be likely to need within the patient's reach. And when the taste is! affected, extra care will be needed in choosing and flavouring-as far as possible-in accordance with what looks like fancifulness. Elderly people and chronic cases often suffer from cold feet, and a good nurse will anticipate her patient's wants, and, by occasionally putting her hand under the clothes, will easily detect the approach of chilliness. A hot bottle, brick, or tin is generally used for cold feet; but in sickness, I much prefer an india-rubber bag, which is softer and more mouldable. Either variety should be provided with a flannel cover, which can be removed and washed.

In paralysis, insensibility, or great weakness, I advise the use of a good large piece of flannel, in preference to either of the above-to warm it, hold it out before a brisk fire till one side is thoroughly hot; then double it, hold it again to the fire, then fold again, so as to inclose the side just warmed. Repeat the process till the flannel is quite small; open at the bedside, and

'My dear boy,' said Lady Markham, 'everything is trying. The thermometer is much less offensive than most things that men care for. Girls are brought up in that fastidious way; you all like them to be so, and to think they have refined tastes, and so forth; and then you are surprised when you find they have a little difficulty- Constance was only fanciful, that was all-impatient.'

'Fanciful,' he repeated. That was what the little one said. I wish she were fanciful, and not so horribly well and strong.'

'My dear Claude,' said Lady Markham quickly, 'you would not like that at all! A delicate wife is the most dreadful thing-one that you would always have to be considering; who could not perhaps go to the places that suited you; who would not be able to go out with you when you wanted her. I don't insist upon a daughter of mine: but not that, not that, for your own sake, my dear boy!'

'I believe you are right,' he said with a look of conviction. Then I suppose the only thing to be done is to wait for a little and see how things turn out. There is no hurry about it, you know.'

'Oh, no hurry!' she said with uneasy assent. "That is, if you are not in a hurry,' she added after a pause.

'No, I don't think so. I am rather enjoying myself, I think. It always does one good,' he said, getting up slowly, to come and have it out with you.'

Lady Markham said 'Dear boy!' once more, and gave him her hand, which he kissed; and then his audience was over. He went away; and she turned round to her writing-table to the inevitable correspondence. There was a little cloud upon her forehead so long as she was alone; but when another knock came at the door it cleared by magic as she said 'Come in.' This time it was Sir Thomas who appeared. He was a tall man, with gray hair, and had the air of being very carefully brushed and dressed. He came in, and seated himself where Claude had been, but pushed back the chair from the fire.

'Don't you think,' he said, 'that you keep your room a little too warm?'

'Claude complained that it was cold-it is difficult to please everybody.'

'Oh, Claude.—I have come to speak to you, dear Lady Markham, on a very different subject. I was talking to Frances last night.'

'So I perceived. And what do you think of my little girl?'

You know,' he said with some solemnity, the hopes I have always entertained that some time or other our dear Waring might be brought among us once more.'

'I have always told you,' said Lady Markham, 'that no difficulties should be raised by me.'

'You were always everything that is good and kind,' said Sir Thomas. 'I was talking to his dear little daughter last night. She reminds me very much of Waring, Lady Markham.'

"That is odd; for everybody tells me-and indeed I can see it myself that she is like

me.'

'She is very like you; still, she reminds me of her father more than I can say. I do

think we have in her the instrument-the very instrument that is wanted. If he is ever to be brought back again'

"Which I doubt,' she said, shaking her head. 'Don't let us doubt. With perseverance, everything is to be hoped; and here we have in our very hands what I have always looked for some one devoted to him and very fond of you.'

'Is she very fond of me?" said Lady Markham. Her face softened-a little moisture crept into her eyes. 'Ah, Sir Thomas, I wonder if that is true. She was very much moved by the idea of her mother-a relation she had never known. She expected I don't know what, but more, I am sure, than she has found in me.-Oh, don't say anything. I am scarcely surprised; I am not at all displeased. To come with your heart full of an ideal, and to find an ordinary womana woman in society!' The moisture enlarged in Lady Markham's eyes, not tears, but yet a liquid mist that gave them pathos. She shook her head, looking at him with a smile.

'We need not argue the question,' said Sir Thomas; for I know she is very fond of you. You should have heard her stop me, when she thought I was going to criticise you. Of course, had she known me better, she would have known how impossible that was.'

Lady Markham did not say 'Dear Sir Thomas!' as she had said 'Dear boy!' but her look was the same as that which she had turned upon Claude. She was in no doubt as to what his account of her would be.

She can persuade him, if anybody can,' he said. 'I think I shall go and see him as soon as I can get away-if you do not object. To bring our dear Waring back, to see you two together again, who have always been the objects of my warmest admiration '

'You are too kind. You have always had a higher opinion of me than I deserve,' she said. 'One can only be grateful. One cannot try to persuade you that you are mistaken. As for my-husband'-there was the slightest momentary pause before she said the name-'I fear you will never get him to think so well of me as you do. It is a great misfortune; but still it sometimes happens that other people think more of a woman than-her very own.'

'You must not say that. Waring adored you.'

She shook her head again. He had a great admiration,' she said, 'for a woman to whom he gave my name. But he discovered that it was a mistake; and for me in my own person he had no particular feeling. Think a little whether you are doing wisely. If you should succeed in bringing us two together again '

'What then?'

She did not say any more: her face grew pale-paled, it were better to say, as by a sudden touch or breath. When such a tie as marriage is severed, if by death, if by any other separation, it is not a light thing to renew it again. The thought of that possibility-which yet was not a possibility-suddenly realised, sent the blood back to Lady Markham's heart. It was not that she was unforgiving, or even that she had not a certain remainder of love for her husband. But to resume those habits of close companionship after so many years-to give up her own

e

individuality, in part at least, and live a dual life-this thought startled her. She had said that she would put no difficulties in the way. But then she had not thought of all that was involved.

The next visitor who interrupted her retirement came in without the preliminary of knocking. It was Markham who thus made his appearance, presenting himself to the full daylight in his light clothes and colourless aspect; not very well dressed, a complete contrast to the beautiful if sickly youth of her first visitor, and the size and vigour of the other. Markham had neither beauty nor vigour. Even the usual keenness and humorous look had gone out of his face. He held a letter in his hand. He did not, like the others, put himself into the chair where Lady Markhani, herself turned from the light, could mark every change of countenance in her interlocutor. He went up to the fire with the ease of the master of the house, and stood in front of it as an Englishman loves to do. But he was not quite at his ease on this occasion. He said nothing until he had assumed this place, and even stood for a whole minute or more silent before he found his voice. Lady Markham had turned her chair towards him at once, and sat with her head raised and expectant, watching him. For with Markham, never very reticent of his words, this prolonged pause seemed to mean that there was something important to say. But it did not appear when he spoke. He put the forefinger of one hand on the letter he held in the other. 'I have heard from the Winterbourns,' he said. "They are coming to

she said. 'You must write and say it is impossible in the circumstances.'

'Can't,' said Markham. "They must have started by this time. They are to travel slowly -to husband his strength.'

'To husband- -Telegraph, then!-Good heavens, Markham, don't you see what a dreadful nuisance-how impossible in every point of view.'

'Come,' he said, with a return of his more familiar tone. 'There's no evidence that he means to die here. I daresay he won't, if he can help it, poor beggar! The telegraph is as impossible as the post. We are in for it, mammy. Let's hope he'll pull through.'

'And if he doesn't, Markham!'

"That will be-more awkward still,' he said. Markham was not himself: he shuffled from one foot to another, and looked straight before him, never glancing aside with those keen looks of understanding which made his insignificant countenance interesting. His mother was, what mothers too seldom are, his most intimate friend; but he did not meet her eye. His hands were thrust into his pockets, his shoulders up to his ears. At last a faint and doubtful gleam broke over his face. He burst into a sudden chuckle, one of those hoarse brief notes of laughter which were peculiar to him. 'By Jove! it would be poetic justice,' he said.

Lady Markham showed no inclination to laughter. 'Is there nothing we can do?' she cried.

Markham did not find that his mother divined what he wanted to say with her usual promptitude. I am afraid Winterbourn is in a bad way,' he said at length, moving uneasily from one foot to the other, and avoiding her eye.

'Do you mean that there is anything serious -dangerous?-Good heavens!' cried Lady Markham, now fully roused, 'I hope she is not going to bring that man to die here.'

That's just what I have been thinking. It would be decidedly awkward.'

Oh, awkward is not the word,' cried Lady Markham, with a sudden vision of all the inconveniences: her pretty house turned upside down -though it was not hers, but his-a stop put to everything-the flight of her guests in every direction-herself detained and separated from all her social duties. You take it very coolly,'

'Claude! I don't know what he was saying. News like this is enough to drive everything else out of one's head.-He is wavering between Con and Frances.'

'Mother, I told you. Frances will have nothing to say to him.'

'Frances-will obey the leading of events, I

hope.'

Poor little Fan! I don't think she will, though. That child has a great deal in her. She shows her parentage.'

'Sir Thomas says she reminds him much of her-father,' Lady Markham said with a faint smile.

"There is something of Waring too,' said her son, nodding his head.'

This seemed to jar upon the mother. She changed colour a little; and then added, her smile growing more constrained: 'He thinks she may be a powerful instrument in-changing his mind-bringing him, after all these years, back-here she paused a little, as if seeking for a phrase; then added, her smile growing less and less pleasant to his duty.'

Then Markham for the first time looked at her. He had been paying but partial attention up to this moment, his mind being engrossed with difficulties of his own; but he awoke at this suggestion, and looked at her with something of his usual keenness, but with a gravity not at all usual. And she met his eye with an awakening in hers which was still more remarkable. For a moment they thus contemplated each other, not like mother and son, nor like