to great heights in the
estimation of the District. It was told of him how he was not only
physician but nurse to the Collector, and no woman could have been more
deft or capable in the sick-room than he was. But no one knew that a
sense of obligation to his conscience as well as to the sick man was
driving him hard, so that, for the time being, all personal
considerations were swept aside,--even his cherished plans which were
nearing completion,--in order that he might save a useful life to which
he owed some reparation.

Mrs. Bright was filled with admiration, and Honor with adoration. Both
held themselves in readiness to be of use as necessity might demand, and
were full of concern for Joyce so far away. Yet no cable was sent to
tell her of her husband's state.

"From a rational point of view, it would be folly," said Mrs. Bright.
"If he should die, we can send a cable to prepare her, and follow it up
with another soon afterwards. Should he recover, we will have given her
a nasty fright for nothing. By the time mail day comes round, we shall
have something definite to say, and a letter will do quite well." To
this Honor was obliged to agree, but it seemed terrible to her loving
heart that a wife should be in ignorance of her husband's peril, and
thus be deprived of importuning the Almighty with prayers for his
recovery. So much of good in life depended on prayer, that she felt it
necessary to pray on behalf of Joyce for the life of the husband so
precious to her. According to her convictions, God works through the
agency of his creatures, and as no stone was being left unturned by the
doctor whose whole heart was in his profession, Ray Meredith stood a
good chance if God were merciful to the reckless man who had scorned the
deadly rays of an Indian sun.

"I am so thankful he has you to take care of him," she once said during
a private interlude, when Dalton held her in his arms under the great
trees of the avenue and kissed her good-night. "Poor, poor Joyce! She
would break her heart if she were to lose him--and she away! She would
never forgive herself for going."

"If, in spite of all our efforts, he should not recover, you may take it
that he is fated to die of this stroke. One can't kick against Fate."

"There is no such thing as Fate! If you do your best, God helping, he
will recover, I am sure of it. I am praying so hard for his wife's sake.
If we keep in touch with God and do our best unremittingly, it i