What did that mean ?' 'Sickness in the house, my lady.

A brother of mine that went to America to make his fortune, and seemed to be doing so well for the first five or six years, and wrote home such beautiful letters, and then left off writing all at once, and we made sure as he was dead, and never got a word from him for ten years, and just three weeks ago he drops in upon us as we was sitting over our tea between the lights, looking as white as a ghost.

I gave a shriek when I saw him, for I was regular scared out of my senses.

"Robert's ghost!" I cried; but it was Robert himself, come home to us to die.

And he's lying upstairs now, with so little life in him that I expect every breath to be his last.' 'What is his complaint ?' 'Apathy, my lady.