the kitchen again, and when
Nathan reached her side, her teeth were chattering and great beads of
sweat covered her quivering face; she sank into Nathan's chair unable to
support herself.

When at last she was assisted tenderly to her feet, she begged feebly to
be taken home.

"But you can't ride that far," Silas protested, pityingly. "You just
naturally can't ride that far in th' big wagon, child."

For answer she dragged herself forward and staggered to the chair where
they had put her bonnet. Nathan saw that her strength was returning and
gave Silas a little nod. They each took an arm to steady her, and so
Elizabeth passed from the presence of her one dear friend into a life as
colourless as the form she left behind.

* * * * *

"He's an awful sick child, Mrs. Hunter, but we may--I believe we will pull
him through."

It was Thursday, and Doctor Morgan sat opposite Elizabeth, holding the
hand of the shadow of the baby of three days ago.

"You see that milk has not agreed with him. Mr. Hunter says you took a
drive over to Hornby's the day of the funeral. The heat and excitement has
been too much for you. You nursed him immediately on getting home?"

"Yes," she replied lifelessly.

"Well, we'll have to wean him now," the old doctor said, looking the
unresponsive mother over sharply. "It won't do to try any experiments with
him. Your milk may be all right now, but he wouldn't stand a relapse."

Elizabeth made no reply and listened patiently to his directions for
preparing the new food. After he was gone, she laid the shrunken little
body on the bed and went to the kitchen to prepare the milk. She took up
the new bottle with the rubber on the end and looked at it in stupefied,
aimless disgust. Her impulse was to fling it out of the open door, but
remembering that she would but poison him by putting his lips to her own
breast, she turned to the table and placing the bottle in a pan covered it
with cold water and set it on the stove to come to a slow boil.

Going back to the bedroom she picked up the pillow--the child was so limp
that they had to handle him on a pillow--and sat down, holding it close to
her heart.

John came in. She did not look up. He came over to her and stooped to look
at the half-conscious child, who lay with half-open eyes and under jaw
dropped down. There were deep greenish rings under those eyes, and a great
sob broke from John Hunter's throat