She had been looking up into one of her apple-trees, one day, a few weeks ago, and an apple had fallen and struck her in the eye.

Such innocent means does Nature sometimes use for her cruel accidents of disease and death! Just an apple falling from a tree,--and you are blind! A fly stings you, on a Summer day, and you die.
Colin, rested and refreshed, we once more started on our way, but, bravely as he strode on, there was no disguising it--my blithe, happy-hearted companion was ill.

Of course we both assured the other that it could be nothing, but privately our hearts sank with a vague fear we did not speak.

At length, after a weary four miles, we reached Towanda.
"I'm afraid," said poor Colin, "I can walk no more to-day.

Perhaps a good night's rest will make me all right." We found an inn, and while Colin threw himself, wearied, on his bed, I went out, not telling him, and sought a doctor.
"And you've been walking with this temperature ?" said the learned man, when he had seated himself at Colin's bedside and felt his wrist.