Betty wondered if her brother-in-law were lying.  It was generally safest to argue that he was.  But the fever burned high at Mount Dunstan, and she knew by instinct what its owner was giving of the strength of his body and brain.  A young, unmarried woman cannot go about, however, making anxious inquiries concerning the welfare of a man who has made no advance towards her.  She must wait for the chance which brings news.

. . . . .

The fever, having ill-cared for and habitually ill fed bodies to work upon, wrought fiercely, despite the energy of the two young doctors and the trained nurses.  There were many dark hours in the ballroom ward, hours filled with groans and wild ravings.  The floating Terpsichorean goddesses upon the lofty ceiling gazed down with wondering eyes at haggard faces and plucking hands which sometimes, behind the screen drawn round their beds, ceased to look feverish, and grew paler and stiller, until they moved no more.  But, at least, none had died through want of shelter and care.  The supplies needed came from London each day.  Lord Dunholm had sent a generous cheque to the aid of the sufferers, and so, also, had old Lady Alanby, but Miss Vanderpoel, consulting medical authorities and hospitals, learned exactly what was required, and necessities were forwarded daily in their most easily utilisable form.

“You generously told me to ask you for anything we found we required,” Mr. Penzance wrote to her in his note of thanks.  “My dear and kind young lady, you leave nothing to ask for.  Our doctors, who are young and enthusiastic, are filled with delight in the completeness of the resources placed in their hands.”

She had, in fact, gone to London to consult an eminent physician, who was an authority of world-wide reputation.  Like the head of the legal firm of Townlinson & Sheppard, he had experienced a new sensation in the visit paid him by an indubitably modern young beauty, who wasted no word, and whose eyes, while he answered her amazingly clear questions, were as intelligently intent as those of an ardent and serious young medical student.  What a surgical nurse she would have made!  It seemed almost a pity that she evidently belonged to a class the members of which are rich enough to undertake the charge of entire epidemics, but who do not usually give themselves to such work, especially when they are young and astonishing in the matter of looks.

In addition to the work they did in the ballroom ward, Mount Dunstan and the vicar found much to do among the villagers.  Ignorance and alarm combined to create dangers, even where they might not have been feared.  Daily instruction and inspection of the cottages and their inmates was required.  The knowledge that they were under control and supervision was a support to the frightened people and prevented their lapsing into careless habits.  Also, there began to develop among them a secret dependence upon, and desire to please “his lordship,” as