his manner
disturbed, distraught, as with one whose absorption is elsewhere.
Suddenly Harriet remembered that he was the intimate, the friend of
Major Rathbone.

"I am going to him," said Harriet; "nothing that you can say makes
any difference."

The Father gazed at her thoughtfully. Then he nodded. "No," he said;
"you are right; nothing will."

Just then the two other physicians came down the stairs.

"A word with you first, gentlemen, please," said the Father. The four
men gathered at the foot of the stairway.

Watching, an outsider would have said that the priest and the young
doctor were pleaders with the others for the cause of Miss Blair.

Later, the Mother herself led Harriet up the stairs and along a
corridor, the young doctor following with Alexina.

"I think I--do you think I ought to go with her?" Alexina had faltered
to him.

The two young things gazed at each other indeterminate. Alexina's
eyes were swimming, like a child's, with unshed tears. Never has
tragedy such epic qualities as in youth. Then he turned and led the
way. "Yes," he told her, "I think if I were you I would."

Harriet was by the bed when they entered, gazing down on the lean,
brown face of the man, whose eyes were closed. The Sister in charge,
sitting on the other side, was speaking in a low voice. Had she seen
fit to tell what she knew?

For Harriet turned as they entered and looked at them. Her face was
set as in marble. It was cold, it was stern; only, the eyes fixed on
the young doctor's face were imploring.

"Will he wake first?" she asked.

The young fellow seemed to shrink before the majesty of her suffering.
Alexina put out a hand to touch her and drew it back, afraid. If only
she were not so superbly self-controlled.

"Yes, he will most likely awake," he assured her, and must have done
so even if he had not thought it.

She took off her hat, a large, festive affair with plumes and jewelled
buckles, and dropped her wrap. There was a low chair near the bed. She
drew it close and sat down, her eyes on the face on the pillow. Jewels
gleamed in the lace of her gown, and the shining silk of its folds
trailed the floor about her.

Alexina stole across to a far and shadowed corner of the room and sat
down by a table. She was crying and striving to keep it noiseless.

The doctor stood irresolute, then made a movement.

"Do you have to go?" said Harriet, turning.

"No; I expect to be here in the building all night. T