At length Katherine rose and went downstairs to take counsel with Mrs. Dodd.  “She seems quite unable to recover herself.  Ought she not to have a little wine or something?”

“Yes, miss; it’s just that she wants.  She is nigh starved to death.”

“Have you any wine?”

“Well, no, miss; but there’s a tavern round the corner where you can get very good port from the wood.  I’ll send the girl for a pint.”

“Pray do, and quickly, and some biscuits or something; here is some money.  What is her name?”

“Trant—­Miss Trant,” returned Mrs. Dodd, knowing who her interrogator meant.  “Leastways we always called her miss, for she is quite the lady.”

Katherine hurried back, and found Miss Trant lying back in her chair greatly exhausted.  With instinctive tact Katherine assumed an air of authority, and insisted on her patient eating some biscuits soaked in wine.

Presently Miss Trant sat up, and, as if with an effort raised her eyes to Katherine’s.  “I am not worth so much trouble,” she said.  “You deserve that I should obey you.  It is all I can do to show gratitude.  If, then, you will be content with very slow work, I will thankfully do what you wish; but I must have time.”

“So you shall,” cried Katherine, delightedly.  “You shall have plenty of time to make me a dress; that will be more amusing than plain work.  I will bring you the material to-morrow, and if you fit me well, you know, it may lead to a great business;” and she smiled pleasantly.

“What is your name?” asked the patient, feebly.  Katherine told her.  “You are so good, you make me resigned to live.”

“Do you care to read?”

“I used to love it; but I have no books, nor could I attend to the sense of a page if I had.”

“If you sit here without book or work, I do not wonder at your being half dead.”

“Not nearly half dead yet; dying by inches is a terribly long process.  I am dreadfully strong.”

“I will not listen to you if you talk like that.  Well, I will bring you some books—­indeed, I will send you some at once if you will promise to read and divert your thoughts.  To-morrow afternoon I will come, you shall take my measure (I like to be made to look nice), and you shall begin again.”

“Begin again!  Me!  That would be a miracle.”

“Now try and get a little sleep,” said Katherine, “your eyes look so weary.  You want to stop thinking, and only sleep can still thought.  When you wake you shall find some of the new magazines, and you must try and attend to them.”

“I will, for your sake.”

“Good-by, then, till to-morrow;” and having pressed her hand kindly, Katherine departed.

It was quite a triumph for Katherine to report her success to Bertie that evening.  Miss Payne rather shook her head over the whole affair.

“I must say it puts me on edge altogether to hear you two rejoicing over this young woman’s condescension in accepting the work you lay at her feet, while such crowds of starving wretches are begging and praying for something to do; and here is a mysterious young woman with lady-like manners and remarkable eyes, taken up all at once because she won’t eat and refuses to speak.  It isn’t just.  I suspect there is something in her past she does not like to tell.”