he had henceforward no room
for doubt. The girl raised her head a little and spoke in a low but
penetrating tone.

"Miss Meldreth," she said, "excuse me, but you yourself are disturbing
your mother far more than I have done. See--she is beginning to be
restless again; she cannot bear loud talking or altercation."

The Rector was astonished by the firmness of her tone. She was so
graceful, so slight, so fragile-looking, that he had not credited her
with any great strength of character, in spite of his admiration for her
beauty. But what she said was perfectly true, and he hastened to lend
her his support.

"Quite so," he said approvingly. "Mrs. Meldreth should be kept quiet, I
can see"--for the old woman had begun to moan and to move her head
restlessly from side to side when she heard her daughter's rasping
voice. "Perhaps you would step into another room with me, Miss Meldreth,
and tell me how this attack came on--if, at least, Miss Vane does not
mind being left with Mrs. Meldreth for a few minutes, or if she is not
tired."

Enid answered with a faint sweet smile.

"I am not tired," she said. "And poor nurse wants to speak to me when
she is able. She sent to tell me so. I can stay with her quite well."

But the proposition seemed to excite Sabina Meldreth almost to fury.

"If you think," she said, "that I am going to leave my mother alone with
anybody--gentleman or lady--you are mistaken. If you want her to be
quiet, leave her alone yourselves--she'll stay quiet enough if she's
left to me."

"Sabina," said Enid, with a gentle dignity of tone which commanded the
Rector's admiration and respect, "you know that your mother wanted me to
come."

"I know that she's off her head!" said Sabina angrily. "She doesn't know
what she says or what she wants. It's nonsense, all of it! And meaning
no disrespect to you, Miss Vane"--in a lower but sulkier tone--"if you
would but go away and leave her to me, she'd be all the better for it in
the end."

"Hush!" said Enid, raising her hand--the serenity of her face was quite
undisturbed by Sabina's expostulation. "She is coming to herself
again--she is going to speak."

There was a moment's silence in the room. The sick woman was lying
still; her eyes wandered and her lips moved, but as yet no articulate
sound issued from them. In apparently uncontrollable passion, Sabina
stamped violently and shook the rail of the iron bedstead with her
hands.

"She ain't going to speak;