sticken.

'Oh!' she cried to him, under her breath; 'have we been too long?' And
hurrying into the inner room she left him waiting.

Inside was a mournful sight. The two men and Mrs. Irwin stood close
round the settle, but as she came nearer, Catherine saw Mary Backhouse
lying panting on her pillows, her breath coming in loud gasps, her
dress and all the coverings of the bed showing signs of disorder and
confusion, her black hair tossed about her.

'It's bin awfa' work sence you left, miss,' whispered Mrs. Irwin to
Catherine excitedly, as she joined them. 'She thowt she heerd soombody
fleytin' and callin'--it was t' wind came skirlin' round t' place, an'
she aw' but thrown hirsel' oot 'o' t' bed, an' aa shooted for Tim, and
they came, and they and I--it's bin as much as we could a' du to hod
'er.'

'Luke! Steady!' exclaimed Jim. 'She'll try it again.'

For the hands were moving restlessly from side to side, and the face was
working again. There was one more desperate effort to rise, which the
two men checked--gently enough, but effectually--and then the exhaustion
seemed complete. The lids fell, and the struggle for breath was pitiful.

Catherine flew for some drugs which the doctor had left, and shown her
how to use. After some twenty minutes they seemed to give relief, and
the great haunted eyes opened once more.

Catherine held barley-water to the parched lips, and Mary drank
mechanically, her gaze still intently fixed on her nurse. When Catherine
put down the glass the eyes followed her with a question which the lips
had no power to frame.

'Leave her now a little,' said Catherine to the others. 'The fewer
people and the more air the better. And please let the door be open: the
room is too hot.'

They went out silently, and Catherine sank down beside the bed. Her
heart went out in unspeakable longing toward the poor human wreck before
her. For her there was no morrow possible, no dawn of other and softer
skies. All was over: life was lived, and all its heavenly capabilities
missed forever. Catherine felt her own joy hurt her, and her tears fell
fast.

'Mary,' she said, laying her face close beside the chill face on the
pillow, 'Mary, I went out: I climbed all the path as far as Shanmoss.
There was nothing evil there. Oh, I must tell you! Can I make you
understand? I want you to feel that it is only God and love that are
real. Oh, think of them! He would not let you be hurt and terrified in
your pain, po