chance--a very good one. He says her
grit alone--Oh, Belden, what shall we do? _What_ shall we do?"

Peter sat down heavily on the lowest stair.

"Only last week she was so well--and yet she really wasn't. I suppose
he knows. But it doesn't seem possible--I can't get it through my head.
Poor little Caddy! She never had a sick day in her life. No headaches,
like most Women, even--no nonsense--Oh, Belden, _what_ shall we do?"

"Brace up, Peter; think what a good fighting chance means, think of
that! It's not as if Caddy were old; she has that on her side. She's
seven years behind me, you know."

Peter scowled. "You're fifty, aren't you?"

"Not a bit. Only forty-eight, and just that, too. Now you go out and get
the nurse, and I'll stay here. It'll do you a lot of good. Don't mope
around in the house all day--what's the use?"

"I can't leave the house. Honestly, Belden, I can't. I've tried twice,
and I just walk right back. It's no good. There's the cart--and you
won't be long, will you?"

Belden took up the reins with a vague sense of momentary relief: it was
something to do. Under the influence of the fresh autumn air his spirits
rose; he found himself enjoying the swift rattle of the cart and the
beat of the horse's feet. After all, think of Caddy's grit; think of
her fine constitution! A fighting chance--that was little enough to say,
though. Why couldn't he have put it a little stronger? Hitchcock always
was a pessimist.

At the station the usual crowd of well-dressed suburbanites quieted
their horses and waited impatiently for the express. As Belden drew up
into line, they greeted him with a subdued interest; coachmen left their
seats to ask how Mrs. Moore was to-day, and when could one see her? A
sudden mist came over his eyes as he answered briefly, "Very soon--I
hope."

The train thundered in; in an incredibly short time all the guests and
commuters were hurried off toward town--where was that nurse?

As his glance wandered through the thinning crowd, it was met suddenly
and squarely by two brown eyes set in a fresh pink face framed by dark
hair lightly sprinkled with gray. The second that he looked into that
woman's eyes taught him her character, absolutely, as finally as if
he had grown up with her. One could trust her to the last ditch, he
thought.

She walked straight up to the cart. "I am the nurse sent for by Dr.
Hitchcock. Are you Mr. Moore?"

"I am Mrs. Moore's brother--Mr. Belden," he explai