guarded the remaining daughter.

It was eleven o'clock when Alexander Keith drove from the door. It was a
moonlight night, and he was sure to spare no speed, but he could hardly
be at Avoncester within an hour and a half, and the doctor would take
at least two in coming out. Mrs. Kelland was the companion of Rachel's
watch. The woman was a good deal subdued. The strangeness of the great
house tamed her, and she was shocked and frightened by the little girl's
state as well as by the young lady's grave, awe-struck, and silent
manner.

They tried all that Captain Keith had suggested, but the child was too
weak and spent to inhale the steam of vinegar, and the attempts to make
her swallow produced fruitless anguish. They could not discover how long
it was since she had taken any nourishment, and they already knew what
a miserable pittance hers had been at the best. Mrs. Kelland gave her up
at once, and protested that she was following her mother, and that there
was death in her face. Rachel made an imperious gesture of silence, and
was obeyed so far as voice went, but long-drawn sighs and shakes of the
head continued to impress on her the aunt's hopelessness, throughout
the endeavours to change the position, the moistening of the lips, the
attempts at relief in answer to the choked effort to cough, the weary,
faint moan, the increasing faintness and exhaustion.

One o'clock struck, and Mrs. Kelland said, in a low, ominous voice, "It
is the turn of the night, Miss Rachel. You bad best leave her to me."

"I will never leave her," said Rachel impatiently.

"You are a young lady, Miss Rachel, you ain't used to the like of this."

"Hark!" Rachel held up her finger.

Wheels were crashing up the hill. The horrible responsibility was over,
the immediate terror gone, help seemed to be coming at the utmost speed,
and tears of relief rushed into Rachel's eyes, tears that Lovedy must
have perceived, for she spoke the first articulate words she had uttered
since the night-watch had begun, "Please, ma'am, don't fret, I'm going
to poor mother."

"You will be better now, Lovedy, here is the doctor," said Rachel,
though conscious that this was not the right thing, and then she
hastened out on the stairs to meet the gaunt old Scotsman and bring him
in. He made Mrs. Kelland raise the child, examined her mouth, felt her
feet and hands, which were fast becoming chill, and desired the warm
flannels still to be applied to them.

"Cannot