For five days after that burning afternoon of the flower-show Juliet
scarcely left Vera Fielding's side. During those five days Vera lay
at the point of death, and though her husband was constantly with her
it was to Juliet that she clung through all the terrible phases of
weakness, breathlessness, and pain that she passed. Through the dark
nights--though a trained nurse was in attendance--it was Juliet's hand
that held her up, Juliet's low calm voice that reassured her in the
Valley of the Shadow through which she wandered. Often too spent for
speech, her eyes would rest with a piteous, child-like pleading upon
Juliet's quiet face, and--for Juliet at least--there was no resisting
their entreaty. She laid all else aside and devoted herself body and soul
to the tender care of the sick woman.

Edward Fielding regarded her with reverence and a deep affection that
grew with every day that passed. She was always so gentle, so capable, so
undismayed. He knew that her whole strength was bent to the task of
saving Vera's life, and even when he most despaired he found himself
leaning upon her, gathering courage from the resolute confidence with
which she shouldered her burden.

"She never thinks of herself at all," he said once to Saltash between
whom and himself a friendship wholly unavoidable on his part and also
curiously pleasant had sprung up. "I suppose in her position of companion
she has been more or less trained for this sort of thing. But her
devotion is amazing. She is absolutely indispensable to my wife."

"_Juliette_ seems to have found her vocation," observed Saltash with a
lazy chuckle. "But no, I should not say that she was specially trained
for this sort of thing, though certainly it seems to suit her passing
well. All the same, you won't let her carry it too far, will you? Now
that Mrs. Fielding is beginning to rally a little it might be a good
opportunity to make her take a rest."

"Yes, you're right. She must rest," Fielding agreed. "She is so
marvellous that one is apt to forget she must be nearly worn out."

It was the fifth day and Vera had certainly rallied. She lay in the
sombre old library, that had been turned into the most luxurious bedroom
that Saltash's and Juliet's ingenuity could devise, listening to the
tinkle of the water in the conservatory and watching Juliet who sat in a
low chair by her side with a book in her lap ready to read her to sleep.

There was a couch in the conservatory itself