“For the present,” said Dr. Jim.

“Who is taking your patients?” she asked him unexpectedly.

“A fellow from London, a youngster,” said Dr. Jim.  “Now no more talking, my girl!  I’ll have you in bed in five minutes and you must be fast asleep in ten.”

She laid her cropped head down upon his shoulder, and asked no more.

But she could not wholly repress her astonishment when she abruptly found herself at Redlands.  The adventure had all the suddenness of a fairy-tale.  “We must have been scorching!” she exclaimed.  “Why, we seem to have flown here!”

“It’s necessary sometimes,” said Dr. Jim.

His words did not wholly explain matters, but they effectually closed her lips; and she asked no more as he bore her up to the room she always occupied when staying in Nick’s house.  And thereafter she slept more peacefully and naturally than she had slept for a very long time.

In the morning she found another wonder awaiting her; for it was not the nurse who came to her bedside, but Muriel, grave and gentle and motherly, and somehow the sight of her seemed to unveil much that till then had been a mystery to Olga.

She greeted her very lovingly.  “You can’t imagine what it feels like to see you again,” she whispered, with her arms round Muriel’s neck.  “But I do hope you and Dad haven’t hurried back from Switzerland because of me.”

Muriel smiled at her with great tenderness.  “My darling, don’t you know how precious you are?”

“Then you did!” said Olga.  “I feel a horrid pig.  How is Reggie?”

“He is splendid,” said Reggie’s mother, in the deep voice that always indicated depth of feeling also.  “Much too gay and giddy to come and see you yet.  Even Jim is satisfied with him.  I couldn’t ask for more than that, could I?”

She brought her a cup of milk and sat by the bed while she drank it.  There was never any perturbing element in Muriel’s presence.  She carried ever with her the gracious quietness of a mind at rest.

Olga drank her milk with a most unwonted feeling of serenity.  “Reggie certainly mustn’t come near me yet,” she said.  “It would be awful if he caught it.”

“There is nothing to catch, dear,” said Muriel, as she took back the cup.

“Not scarlet fever?” said Olga in surprise.

“You haven’t had scarlet fever,” Muriel told her gently.  “It was brain fever, following upon sunstroke.  That is why we have to keep you so quiet.”

“Oh!” said Olga.  “Nick never told me that!”

“I don’t suppose Dr. Jim would let him.  But I told him I should.”  Muriel’s hand, cool and reassuring, held hers.  “There is no object in keeping it from you,” she said.  “You are getting well again, and you always had plenty of sense, dear.  I know you will be sensible now.”

“I’ll certainly try,” said Olga.

She lay quiet then for some time, apparently engrossed in thought though not distressed thereby.  She turned her head at last and asked a sudden question.