Katherine lighted the candle, kept for emergencies, and searched for the desired remedy amid the heterogeneous collection in the drawer, but failed to find it.  Then she looked in various other places suggested by Sadie, with the same result, greatly to the girl’s disappointment.

“Oh, I remember—­I lent it to Carrie Hill last week!  What shall I do?” wailed the sufferer in a voice of despair; for Miss Hill roomed at the top of the opposite wing, and just at that moment the clock in the tower of the building struck the hour of three.

She was now wrought up to a state of excessive nervous excitement, and it looked as if there would be no more sleep for either of them that night.

“Haven’t you something—­some camphor or salts, Katherine?  I can’t stand this any longer,” and Sadie was now sobbing from mingled nervousness and suffering.

“No, dear.  I never use anything of the kind,” Katherine replied.

“Do you never put anything in a tooth when it aches?”

“No.”

“Do you ever have the toothache?”

“I used to when I was a child; very seldom now.”

“What do you do to stop it?” was the impatient query, accompanied by a prolonged groan.

“Treat it mentally.”

“Shucks!” and Miss Minot threw herself violently back upon her pillows with an air of personal injury mingled with supreme contempt, while Katherine kept on working for harmony in her own thought.

“Katherine, I simply cannot stand this until morning,” the girl cried again, after a minute or two of forced endurance, as a fresh paroxysm seized her.

“Shall I go to the matron and ask her for something for you?” Katherine inquired.

“Oh, I don’t know; it seems a shame to send you way down to her at this unearthly hour.  It is bad enough to keep you awake,” said Sadie, remorsefully.

“Never mind me, dear.  I am willing to do anything you wish, and I’m not afraid to go anywhere in the building,” was the kind response.

“Perhaps if I had some water to hold in my mouth it might relieve me,” Sadie suggested.

Katherine brought her a glass and she filled her mouth, but expelled the water almost instantly, as the bare and sensitive nerve rebelled against such radical treatment.

“Can’t you do something?” she gasped, clutching her companion’s arm with a spasmodic grip.

“I’ll go to Miss Williams, or some of the girls for—­” Katherine began.

“No, I can’t bear to make a stir—­oh, heavens! oh! treat me—­your way—­anything—­anything to stop this unbearable torture!” and Sadie buried her face in her pillow to smother the moans she could not repress.

“Indeed I will,” said Katherine, with a heart-throb of thankfulness for the appeal; and, dropping her face upon her hands, she went to work with all her understanding for the sufferer.

Ten minutes passed; then it seemed as if the intervals between the moans grew longer.  Another five minutes and she was sure that the hand upon her arm was relaxing its convulsive grasp.  Not long after the restless form grew still, the hot hand on her arm slipped down upon the bed, and when the clock in the tower struck the half hour after three, the regular breathing of the girl told of quiet and restful sleep.