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“No, not much worse. My cough is only a little troublesome,” was the quiet reply.

“You have had no supper yet, of course,” said Ellen. “A cup of hot tea will do you good.”

This was soon prepared, and Margaret (sic) eat with a keen appetite. After tea, she was much better. The cold perspiration ceased, and her skin became dry and warm. A brief conversation passed between the sisters, when Margaret fell off into a pleasant slumber. On the next morning, with much reluctance and many misgivings as to whether it were right to leave her sister alone, Ellen went to Mrs. Condy’s. Before going, however, she asked the kind neighbour who lived below, to look in occasionally, and to see that Margaret had a good cup of tea for dinner. This was promised, and she felt lighter at heart.

Ellen worked hard through that day; but when night came, with all the help she had received, the first dress was not finished. Unless one dress were finished each day, the three could not be done by Sunday; and this not being the case on the first day, how could she go home that night? for if she worked a few hours longer, the garment would be ready for the wearer.

“I must run home a little while,” said she, mentally, “and then come back again. But how can I leave Margaret all night? She may die!” The thought caused her to shudder.

At length she said to Mrs. Condy–

“I can’t leave sister all night, madam. But I can take your dress home with me, and by sitting up late, I can easily finish it. You will have no objection to my doing this, I hope?”

Mrs. Condy paused a moment, for she did feel an objection to this being done; but humanity prevailed, and she consented. This relieved Ellen’s mind very greatly, and she bundled up the dress, and hurried away with it. Margaret appeared more feeble than she was in the morning; and her cough was very troublesome. It was nearly twelve o’clock when the last stitch was taken in Mrs. Condy’s dress. And then Ellen retired to her bed. But it was a long time before she could sleep. The nervous excitement, induced by protracted labour and great anxiety of mind, drove slumber from her eyelids for many hours. Towards morning she fell into a troubled sleep, and awoke at daylight unrefreshed.

This day was Friday, and Jane’s dress came next in turn. Ellen applied herself with even greater assiduity than she had used on the preceding day; but, as Jane’s dress required more trimming, and less assistance was given her on it, the progress she made towards its completion was in no way promising. After dinner her head began to ache, and continued its throbbing, almost blinding pain, until the evening twilight began to fall, and the darkness compelled her to suspend her work.

“Why, Ellen, Jane’s dress isn’t nigh done,” said Mary, in tones of surprise, on coming into the room, at the moment Ellen laid the garment aside.

“No, but I’ll finish it to-night,” replied Ellen.

“Why, it’ll take you pretty much all night to finish this,” she said, lifting and examining her sister’s dress. “How in the world did you get so behindhand, Ellen?”

“This is a harder dress to make than your mother’s,” replied Ellen; “and besides having had less help on it, my head has ached very badly all the afternoon.”

Without seeming to notice the last reason given, Mary said–

“Well, if you can possibly get it done to-night, Ellen, you must do so. It would never answer in the world not to have all the dresses done by to-morrow night.”

“I will have it done,” was the brief reply, made in a low tone.

Jane’s dress was taken home that night, unfinished by full six or seven hours’ work. As Ellen had feared, she found Margaret suffering much from her cough. After preparing some food for her sister, whose appetite still remained good, she drank a cup of tea, and then sat down to work upon the mourning garment. Towards midnight, Margaret, who had fallen asleep early in the evening, began to grow restless, and to moan as if in pain. Every now and then, Ellen would pause in her work and look towards the bed, with an anxious countenance; and once or twice she got up, and stood over her sister; but she did not awake. It was three o’clock when the last stitch was taken, and then Margaret’s cough had awakened her, and she seemed to suffer so much from that and from difficult breathing, that Ellen, even after lying down, did not go to sleep for an hour. It was long after sunrise when she awoke.