very low and clear and distinct, in words that
might have been angels' plumage for their soft bearing upward of the
sufferer's thoughts. Faith could feel a slight trembling once or twice
of the hand that held hers, but the bitterness of its grasp had
relaxed. Dr. Harrison was behind her; whether he stood or knelt she did
not know; but _he_ knew that when the other two rose to their feet, one
of them was exceedingly pale; and his move, made on the instant, was to
get her a glass of water. Faith only tasted it and gave it him back,
and mounted to her former place on the bed. And for a little all was
still, until Mr. Linden spoke again in the same clear, guiding tones.

"'My God, within thy hand
My helpless soul I trust!
Thy love shall ever stand--
Thy promise must!--'"

Then Mrs. Custers opened her eyes; and her first look was at Dr.
Harrison. But whether the relaxed mental tension let the bodily
weakness appear, or whether the tide was at that point where it ebbs
most rapidly, her words were spoken with some trouble--yet spoken as if
both to make amends and give information.

"You meant to be very kind--" she said--"and you have--But _now_ I want
to believe--even if it isn't any use."

Her eyes passed from him--rested for a minute on Mr. Linden--then came
to Faith, and never wavered again. "Read"--was all she said.

With unnerved lip and quivering breath Faith began again her sweet
utterance of some of those sweetest things. For a moment she longed to
ask the other two listeners to go away and leave her alone; but
reasons, different and strong, kept her mouth from speaking the wish;
and then, once dismissed, it was forgotten. Her voice steadied and grew
clear presently; its low, distinct words were not interrupted by so
much as a breath in any part of the room. They steadied her; Faith
rested on them and clung to them as she went along, with a sense of
failing energy which needed a stay somewhere. But her words did not
shew it, except perhaps that they came more slowly and deliberately.
Mr. Linden had drawn back a little out of sight. Dr. Harrison kept his
stand by the bedpost, leaning against it; and whatever that reading was
to him, he was as motionless as that whereon he leaned.

Till some little length of time had passed in this way, and then he
came to Faith's side and laid his hand on her open book.

"She does not hear you," he said softly.

Faith looked at him startled, and then bent forwa