CHAPTER XIX.
THE GOLDEN CITY.
Tony lay there in the dark, overwhelmed by his unusual terror and sorrow, until he heard the voice of old Oliver calling his name feebly.

He hurried to him, and found him still beside the bed where Dolly was lying.
He had taken off most of her clothes, and put her white nightgown over the rest, that she might sleep warmly in them all the night, for her little hands and feet felt very chilly to his touch.

The fire had gone out while they were away, and the grate looked very black and cheerless.
The room was in great disorder, just as they had left it, and the gas, which was burning high, cast a cruel glare upon it all.

But Tony saw nothing except the dear face of Dolly, resting on one check upon the pillow, with her curly hair tossed about it in confusion, and her open eyes gathering a strange film.

Beppo had made his way to her side, and pushed his head under her lifeless little hand, which tried to pat it now and then.