ciousness: to have these images slowly, deliberately burn
themselves into her brain, and to be aware, at the same time, of that
underlying moral disaster, of which the accident seemed the monstrous
outward symbol--ah, this was worse than anything she had ever dreamed!

She knew that the final verdict could not be pronounced till the
operation which was about to take place should reveal the extent of
injury to the spine. Bessy, in falling, must have struck on the back of
her head and shoulders, and it was but too probable that the fractured
vertebra had caused a bruise if not a lesion of the spinal cord. In that
case paralysis was certain--and a slow crawling death the almost
inevitable outcome. There had been cases, of course--Justine's
professional memory evoked them--cases of so-called "recovery," where
actual death was kept at bay, a semblance of life preserved for years in
the poor petrified body.... But the mind shrank from such a fate for
Bessy. And it might still be that the injury to the spine was not
grave--though, here again, the fracturing of the fourth vertebra was
ominous.

The door opened and some one came from the inner room--Wyant, in search
of an instrument-case. Justine turned and they looked at each other.

"It will be now?"

"Yes. Dr. Garford asked if there was no one you could send for."

"No one but Mr. Tredegar and the Halford Gaineses. They'll be here this
evening, I suppose."

They exchanged a discouraged glance, knowing how little difference the
presence of the Halford Gaineses would make.

"He wanted to know if there was no telegram from Amherst."

"No."

"Then they mean to begin."

A nursemaid appeared in the doorway. "Miss Cicely--" she said; and
Justine bounded upstairs.

The day's work had begun. From Cicely to the governess--from the
governess to the housekeeper--from the telephone to the
writing-table--Justine vibrated back and forth, quick, noiseless,
self-possessed--sobering, guiding, controlling her confused and
panic-stricken world. It seemed to her that half the day had elapsed
before the telegraph office at Lynbrook opened--she was at the telephone
at the stroke of the hour. No telegram? Only one--a message from Halford
Gaines--"Arrive at eight tonight." Amherst was still silent! Was there a
difference of time to be allowed for? She tried to remember, to
calculate, but her brain was too crowded with other thoughts.... She
turned away from the instrument discouraged.