would rather be up there, with Tom."

"I doubt they'll have gone to bed, my lady, either of them. Nor yet I
won't be quite sure we shan't find the doctor there." Thus Mrs. Lamprey,
making Gwen's heart sink. For what but very critical circumstances could
have kept Dr. Nash at the Cottage till past one in the morning? But
then, these circumstances must be recent. Else he could never have
wished the letter kept back till to-morrow. She said something to this
effect to her companion, who replied:--"No doubt your ladyship knows!"

There was a light in the front-room, and someone was moving about. The
arrival of the carriage caused the dog to bark, once but not more, as
though for recognition or warning; not as a dog who resented it--merely
as a janitor, officially. The doorbell, in response to a temperate pull,
grated on the silence of the night, overdoing its duty and suggesting
that the puller's want of restraint was to blame. Then came a footstep,
but no noise of bolt or bar withdrawn. Then Ruth Thrale's voice,
wondering who this could be. And then her surprise when she saw her
visitor, whose words to her were:--"I thought it best to come at once!"

"Oh, but she is better! Indeed we think she is better. Dr. Nash was to
write and tell you, so you should know--not to hurry to come too soon."
Thus Ruth, much distressed at this result of the doctor's despatch.

"Never mind me! You are sure she _is_ better? Is that Dr. Nash's voice?"
Yes--it was. He had been there since eleven, and was just going.

Ruth went in to tell Granny Marrable it was her ladyship, as Dr. Nash
came out. "I'm to blame, Lady Gwendolen," said he. "I'm to blame for
being in too great a hurry. It was a blunder. But I can't pretend to be
sorry I made it--that's the truth!"

"You mean that she isn't out of the wood?"

"That kind of thing. She _isn't_."

"Oh dear!" Gwen sank into a chair, looking white. Hope had flared up, to
be damped down. How often the stokers--nurses or doctors--have to pile
wet ashes on a too eager blaze! How seldom they dare to add fresh fuel!

"I will tell you," said the doctor. "She was very much better all
Friday, taking some nourishment. And there is no doubt the champagne did
her good--just a spoonful at a time, you know, not more. She isn't
halfway through the bottle yet. I thought she was on her way to pull
through, triumphantly. Then something upset her."

"Well, but--_what_?" For the doctor had paused at some obstacle,