became
seriously ill again. Susan could soon tell from the grave face of the
doctor, and from the scraps of conversation she overheard, that her poor
little companion was even worse than she had been. Besides this, Mr
Bevis came one evening, and after he had talked a little while to Aunt
Hannah her eyes filled with tears, and Susan heard her say:

"The child's life hangs on a thread."

Mr Bevis said some texts and soon went away, but that one sentence
remained in Susan's mind and made her more miserable than ever. A
thread! It was such a thin, weak thing to hang on, and if it snapped
where would Sophia Jane's life be? Perhaps it would break soon, that
very night, before she could see her again and ask her pardon. It was
such a dreadful thought that Susan was unable to keep it to herself any
longer. She shut her eyes, said her evening prayer all through, and at
the end added very earnestly: "Don't let it break. _Please_ don't let
it break."

Then Margaretta came rushing into the sitting-room where Susan was
curled up in the window seat. She looked pale and frightened.

"Where's Aunt Hannah?" she said.

"Just gone out of the room," answered Susan.

"Oh!" she added, "_do_ tell me--is Sophia Jane worse?"

"I don't know," said Margaretta hurriedly. "I want aunt. She ought to
see her; I think perhaps she would send for Dr Martin again."

Dr Martin was sent for, and came, but he did not give much comfort.

"You can't do anything," he said, "but try and keep up her strength. A
great deal will depend on the next few hours."

From her lonely corner Susan watched and waited all that wretched
evening, and, not daring to ask questions, stayed there, chill with
misery, until long past her usual bed-time. At last Buskin came to find
her. Wonder of wonders! there were tears in Buskin's eyes, and Susan
was encouraged by this display of softness to stretch out her arms to
her for comfort, and whisper, "Will she get better?"

"The Lord only knows, my dear," answered Buskin gruffly; "_we're_ all in
His hands."

CHAPTER SIX.

SOPHIA JANE POSTS A LETTER, AND SUSAN PAYS A VISIT.

Susan remained awake a long, long time that night listening with
strained ears to the subdued noises in the house. She heard Dr Martin
come and go away again, his boots creaking softly on each stair; she
heard Aunt Hannah's voice, mysterious and low, wishing him good-night,
and after that the shutting of the door. Then a great sti