needlework and her painting adorned the walls.  At such times as the fastidious mistress of the house condemned various articles of furniture as too antiquated for her taste, Gertrude would get them secretly conveyed up here; so that her lofty bower was neither bare nor cheerless, but, on the contrary, rather crowded with furniture and knick-knacks of all sorts.  She kept her possessions scrupulously clean, lavishing upon them much tender care, and much of that active service in manual labour which she found no scope for elsewhere.  Her happiest hours were spent up in this lonely attic, far removed from the sound of her mother’s plaints or her brother’s ribald and too often profane jesting.  Here she kept her books, her lute, and her songbirds; and the key of her retreat hung always at her girdle, and was placed at night beneath her pillow.

This evening she had been hastily dismissed from her father’s presence, he having come in with agitated face, and bidden her instantly take herself away whilst he spoke with her mother.  She had obeyed at once, without pausing to ask the questions which trembled on her lips.  That something of ill had befallen she could not doubt; but at least her father was safe, and she must wait with what patience she could for the explanation of her sudden dismissal.

She knew from her brother’s reports that already infected houses were shut up, and none permitted to go forth.  But so straitly had she herself been of late imprisoned within doors, that she felt it would make but little difference were she to hear that a watchman guarded the door, and that the fatal red cross had been painted upon it.

“Our neighbours are not fearful as we are.  They go to and fro in the streets.  They seek to do what they can for the relief of the sick.  My father daily speaks of their courage and faith.  Why may not I do likewise?  I would fain tend the sick, even though my life should be the forfeit.  We can but live once and die once.  Far sooner would I spend a short life of usefulness to my fellow men, than linger out a long and worthless existence in the pursuit of idle pleasures.  It does not bring happiness.  Ah! how little pleasure does it bring!”

Gertrude spoke half aloud and with some bitterness, albeit she strove to be patient with the foibles of her mother, and to think kindly of her, her many faults notwithstanding.  But the terror of these days was taking with her a very different form from what it did with Madam Mason.  It was inflaming within her a great desire to be up and doing in this stricken city, where the fell disease was walking to and fro and striking down its victims by hundreds and thousands.  Other women, in all lands and of all shades of belief, had been found to come forward at seasons of like peril, and devote themselves fearlessly to the care of the sick.  Why might not she make one of this band?  What though it should cost her her life?  Life was not so precious a thing to her that she should set all else aside to preserve it!