cottage?" whispered Shiela.

"Yes.... His room is there where the windows are open.... They keep
them open, you know.... Do you want to go in?"

"Oh, _may_ I see him!"

"No, dear.... Only I often sit in the corridor outside.... But perhaps
you could not endure it--"

"Endure what?"

"To hear--to listen--to his--breathing--"

"Let me go with you!" she whispered, clasping her hands, "let me go with
you, Miss Palliser. I will be very quiet, I will do whatever you tell
me--only let me go with you!"

Miss Clay, just released from duty, met them at the door.

"There is nothing to say," she said; "of course every hour he holds out
is an hour gained. The weather is more favourable. Miss Race will show
you the chart."

As Shiela entered the house the ominous sounds from above struck her
like a blow; she caught her breath and stood perfectly still, one hand
pressing her breast.

"That is not as bad as it has been," whispered Constance, and
noiselessly mounted the stairs.

Shiela crept after her and halted as though paralysed when the elder
woman pointed at a door which hung just ajar. Inside the door stood a
screen and a shaded electric jet. A woman's shadow moved across the wall
within.

Without the slightest noise Constance sank down on the hallway sofa;
Shiela crept up close beside her, closer, when the dreadful sounds broke
out again, trembling in every limb, pressing her head convulsively
against the elder woman's arm.

Young Dr. Lansdale came up-stairs an hour later, nodded to Constance,
looked sharply at Shiela, then turned to the nurse who had forestalled
him at the door. A glance akin to telepathy flashed between physician
and nurse, and the doctor turned to Miss Palliser:

"Would you mind asking Miss Clay to come back?" he said quietly.
"Oh!--has she gone to bed?"

Shiela was on her feet: "I--I have brought a trained nurse," she said;
"the very best--from Johns Hopkins--"

"I should be very glad to have her for a few moments," said the doctor,
looking at the chart by the light of the hall lamp.

Shiela sped down the stairs like a ghost; the nurse re-entered the room;
the doctor turned to follow, and halted short as a hand touched his arm.

"Dr. Lansdale?"

He nodded pleasantly.

"Does it do any good--when one is very, very ill--to see--"

The doctor made a motion with his head. "Who is that young girl?" he
asked coolly.

"Mrs. Malcourt--"

"Oh! I thought it might have been this Shiela he