the quieter you keep the better. There is
nothing for you to be anxious about. I shall send my maid to you
presently; she is very good in sickness. Now lie still, and don't talk
to any one. I only wish you had told me you were not feeling well
before.'

The next week or ten days seemed like a dream; I hardly knew how ill I
was till afterwards; but they had feared at one time that I would not
pull through. The verse that Mr. Stanton gave me kept running through
my head as a continual refrain: 'Underneath are the everlasting arms.'
And I found it a wonderful pillow to rest upon. As I gradually
recovered my health and strength, I was astonished at the extreme
kindness of all in the house. My room was supplied with fresh flowers
every day, and all varieties of books and magazines were constantly
making their appearance.

Mrs. Forsyth was in and out of my room the whole time, though she would
not allow her daughters to come near me, and nothing could have
exceeded her kindness and attention.

'How is Roddy?' was one of the first questions I asked.

Lyle, Mrs. Forsyth's maid, answered me. 'He is getting well, miss.
His mother has been in a sore state of fright about him, but the doctor
was hopeful about him from the first.'

When Christmas Day came, it found me still in my room; but on New
Year's Day I made my first appearance downstairs. I was surprised to
find how weak I felt, and was glad to rest on the couch which Kenneth
wheeled up towards the fire in the drawing-room for me.

'We have missed you very much,' said Kenneth, with a twinkle in his eye
that invariably came there when he spoke to me; 'I fell to quarrelling
with Nell from lack of occupation; she doesn't stand fire like you!
Haven't you missed me? I am sure you must have.'

'I don't think I have thought of you once,' I replied with truth.

'And who do you think sent you those beautiful flowers every day if I
did not?'

'I don't think it was you,' I said decidedly.

He laughed, and Nelly put in, 'Of course he didn't. Mr. Stanton was
constantly bringing some back from London, if he failed to coax old
Brown to cut him some from the houses. I think he has been the most
attentive one all through!'

'Of course he has. I think he was longing to go in and read the Bible
to you, if the mother had let him. Ministration of the sick, don't you
call it? He will be very attentive yet, I assure you. We know the way
the wind lies, don't we, Nell?'