“I am glad to find Mr. Palma has returned.  Though he knows no more than a judge’s gavel of what is needful in a sick-room, he will be a support and comfort to all, and his nerves never flag, never waver.  Keep a written record of Olga’s condition at the hours I have specified, and shut her mother out of the room as much as possible.  I will try to put her to sleep for the next twelve hours, and by that time we shall know the result.  Good-night.”

Olga had violently opposed the removal from Regina’s room, and in accordance with her wishes she had remained where her weary whirling brain first rested on the day of her return.  Arranging the medicine and glasses, and turning down the light, Regina put on her pale blue dressing-gown girded at the waist by a cord and tassel, and loosely twisted and fastened her hair in a large coil low on her head and neck.  She had slept none since Olga came home, and anxiety and fatigue had left unmistakable traces on her pale, sad face.  The letter to her mother had been finished and signed, but still lay in the drawer of her portable writing desk, awaiting envelope and stamp; and so oppressed had she been by sympathy with Olga’s great suffering, that for a time her own grief was forgotten, or at least put aside.

The announcement of Mr. Palma’s return vividly recalled all that beclouded her future, and she began to dread the morrow that would subject her to his merciless bright eyes, feeling that his presence was dangerous.  Perhaps by careful manoeuvring she might screen herself in the sick-room for several days, and thus avoid the chance of an interview, which must result in an inquiry concerning her answer to Mr. Lindsay’s letter.  Fearful of her own treacherous heart, she was unwilling to discuss her decision until assured she had grown calm and firm, from continued contemplation of her future lot; moreover, her guardian would probably return from Washington an accepted lover, and she shrank from the spectacle of his happiness, as from glowing ploughshares—­lying scarlet in her pathway.  In this room she would ensconce herself, and should he send for her, various excuses might be devised to delay the unwelcome interview.

Olga had grown more quiet, and for nearly an hour after the doctor’s departure she only now and then resumed her rambling, incoherent monologue.  Sitting beside the bed, Regina watched quietly until the clock struck twelve, and she coaxed the sufferer to take a spoonful of a sedative from which the physician hoped much benefit.  She bathed the crimson cheeks with a cloth dipped in iced water, and all the while the hazel eyes watched her suspiciously.  Other reflections began to colour her vision, and the happy phase was merging into one of terror, lest her lover should die or be torn away from her.  Leaning over her, Regina endeavoured to compose her by assurances that Belmont was well and safe, but restlessly she tossed from side to side.