f his wife,
and hoped soon to be going to her. He begged Kate to have patience,
explaining that he was under promise not to reveal Jacqueline's
hiding-place.

We must humor her now (he wrote). It is only because of the
intervention of a friend she has found that she has consented to
let me come to her presently. God knows what thoughts of us who
love her and could not trust her have been in her head through
these lonely weeks! We must give her time to get over them. She is
not ready for us yet. You will understand, you who understand
everything. Wait. And meanwhile comfort yourself as I do with the
knowledge that she is safe, safe!

This letter puzzled Jemima almost unbearably, but she dared ask no
question of her mother as to what had occurred. She was grateful to see
that it at least roused the invalid to a show of interest. Kate took it
into her languid hand and read it over twice, looking for some possible
message for herself from Jacqueline, some little word of love that
Jemima might have overlooked.

But finding nothing, she relapsed into the old listlessness.

CHAPTER XLIX

It was a very trivial and unimportant thing, to Jemima's thinking, which
presently lifted Kate out of her languor into action once more. Big
Liza, entering timidly one morning, as she did many times in the day, to
gaze with miserable eyes at the figure on the bed, murmured to Jemima:
"They's a message come fum that 'ooman Mahaly, down in the village,
sayin' she's dyin', and wants to see the Madam. She 'lows she cain't die
in peace 'thout'n she sees Miss Kate."

"Of course that's impossible," said Jemima in the same low tone. "Send
word that we're very sorry. See that she has whatever she needs. If
necessary, I'll go myself."

"Did you say she was dying?" asked an unexpected voice from the bed.

"Yais'm, Miss Kate! but don't you keer, honey. Tain't nothin but that
mulatter 'ooman, Mahaly--You 'members about _her_!" she added
scornfully.--Very little had passed among her "white folks" that was
unknown to the sovereign of the kitchen.

To the amaze of both, Kate slipped without apparent effort out of the
bed where she had lain for weeks. "Where are my clothes?" she demanded.

Jemima ran to her with a cry of protest. "Mother, be careful! What, you
aren't thinking of going to see her? You can't--you're not strong
enough!"

"Mahaly must not die before I speak with her."

"Then," said Je