WHEN AUNT ABBY WAKED UP
The room was very still. The gaunt figure on the bed lay motionless save for a slight lifting of the chest at long intervals. The face was turned toward the wall, leaving a trail of thin gray hair–wisps across the pillow. Just outside the door two physicians talked together in low tones, with an occasional troubled glance toward the silent figure on the bed.
"If there could be something that would rouse her," murmured one; "something that would prick her will–power and goad it into action! But this lethargy—this wholesale giving up!" he finished with a gesture of despair.
"I know," frowned the other; "and I've tried—day after day I've tried. But there's nothing. I've exhausted every means in my power. I didn't know but you—" He paused questioningly.
The younger
