‘Ah, but you do not know all,’ she continued, fixing her miserable eyes on me.  ’I have not been good to Susan:  I have let her sacrifice her life for me, and have taken it all as a matter of course.  I made her bear all my bad tempers and never gave her a good word.  She was too tired,—­ah, she was often tired,—­and then she took this chill, and I made her wait on me all the same.  She told me she was ill and in great pain, and I kept her standing for a long time; and I would not bid her good-night when she went away; and I heard her sigh as she closed the door, and I called her back and she did not hear me; and now—­’ But here hysterical sobs checked her utterance.

’Yes, but you are sorry now, and Susan has forgiven you.  I think she wanted to send you a message, but she is in too great pain to speak.  I heard her say, “Poor Phoebe,” but I begged her not to make the effort; you see she is thinking of you still.’

’My poor Susan!  But she must not miss you; I am wicked and selfish to keep you like this.  Go to her, Miss Garston!’ And I was thankful to be dismissed.

My heart was full when I re-entered the sick-room.  Mr. Hamilton looked rather scrutinising as he rose to give me his place.

‘Your thoughts must be here,’ he said meaningly.  ’Forgive me, if I give you that hint:  do not forget Providence is watching over that other room.  One duty at a time, Miss Garston.’  And, though I coloured at this wholesome rebuke, I knew he was correct.

‘Yes, he is right,’ I thought, as I stood listening to poor Susan’s oppressed and difficult breathing:  ’the Divine Teacher is beside His child.  It is not for us to question this discipline or plead for an easier lesson.’  But none the less did the fervent petition rise from my heart that the angel of death might not be suffered to enter this house.

The night wore on, but, alas! there was no improvement.  When Mr. Hamilton came through the snow the next morning he looked grave and dissatisfied, and then he asked me if I wanted any help; but I shook my head.  ’Mrs. Martin is in the house:  she will look after Phoebe and Kitty.’

When he had gone, I wrote a little note and gave it to Kitty: 

’I cannot leave Susan for a minute, she is so very ill.  Mr. Hamilton can see no improvement.  He is coming again at mid-day.  She suffers very much; but we will not give up hope, you and I;’ and I bade Kitty carry it to her aunt.

When Mr. Hamilton returned, he brought a little covered basket with him, and bade me rather peremptorily take my luncheon while he watched beside the patient.

This act of thoughtfulness touched me.  I wondered who had packed the basket:  there was the wing of a chicken, some delicate slices of tongue, a roll, and some jelly.  A little note lay at the bottom: 

’Giles has asked me to provide a tempting luncheon:  he says you have had a sad night with poor Miss Locke, and are looking very tired.  Poor Ursula! you are spending all your strength on other people.