and her fixed
eyes in a blind way, and the stitching hand resumed its mechanical task,
but she gave no answer, except with the shudderings that shook her, as a
lily is shaken in an autumn blast.

Then Saxham stepped backwards noiselessly, climbed the steep ladder
stairway, and stood waiting for the Mother-Superior in the blazing yellow
sunshine, beside the post to which his horse was hitched. The Mother
followed instantly. He was making some pencil memoranda in a shabby
notebook, and kept his eyes upon his writing, and made a mere mask of his
square, pale face as he began:

"It--the case presents a very interesting development. The subject has at
one time or other--probably the critical period of girlhood--sustained a
severe physical and mental shock?"

The great grey eyes swam in sudden tears that were not to be repressed, as
the Mother-Superior remembered the finding of that lost lamb on the veld
seven years before. She bowed her head in silent assent.

"You would wish candour," Saxham said, looking away from her emotion. "And
I should tell you that this is grave."

"I know it," her desperate eyes said more plainly than her scarcely moving
lips. "But so many others are suffering in the same way, and there is
nothing that can be done for any of them."

He answered with emphasis that struck her cold. "Some measures must be
taken in the case, and without delay. This state of things must not go
on." He saw that the Mother-Superior caught her breath and wrung her hands
together in the loose, concealing sleeves as she said, with a breath of
anguish:

"If she only had more self-control."

"She has self-control." He echoed the word impatiently. "She is using
every ounce she has for all she is worth. She has used it too long and too
persistently."

"I will say then, if she only had more faith!"

"I know nothing of faith," Saxham said curtly; "I deal in common-sense."

She could have asked if it were commonly sensible for a creature made by
God, and existing but by His will, to live without Him? But she put the
temptation past her. No cordial flame of mutual esteem and liking ever
sprang up between these two, often brought together in their mutual work
of help and healing. She recognised Saxham's power, she admitted his
skill. But, as his practised eye had diagnosed in the beloved of her heart
the signs of physical and mental crisis, so her clear gaze deciphered in
his face the story written by those unbridled yea