bony fore-finger, the sinister word,
_Nada_--nothing! The perturbation of the woman increased, though
physical power seemed denied her. "Aline, my child!" This time a
clucking sound issued from her throat.

The girl went to the bedside and gently fanned. Her aunt wagged her head
negatively. "No, no!" she stuttered. Aline stopped, and kneeling, took
the sick hands in her own. Their eyes met and Aline, guided by the
glance, looked over at the picture with its sardonic motto.

"Shall I take it away, Aunt Mary?" The elder woman closed her eyes as if
to shut out the ghoulish mockery. Then Aline saw the tabouret that stood
between the windows--it was burdened with magnolias in a deep white
bowl.

"Do you wish them nearer?"

"No, no," murmured her aunt. Her eyes brightened. She pushed her chin
forward, and the young girl removed the flowers, knowing that their
odour had become oppressive. She was not absent more than a few seconds.
As she returned the maid touched her arm.

"The gentlemen are waiting below, miss. They won't leave until they see
you."

"How can I go now? Send them away, send them away!"

"Yes, miss; but I told them what you said this afternoon about the
danger of Holiest Mother--"

"Hush! she is calling." Aline slipped into the room on hurried feet, her
eyes dilated, her hair in anxious disorder. But the invalid made no
signal. She lay with closed eyelids, the contraction of her nostrils a
faint proclamation of life. Again the niece took her place at the
headboard, and with folded fingers watched the whispering indications of
speedy flight. The maid soon beckoned her from a narrowed door. Aline
joined her.

"They say that if you don't go down, they will come up."

"Who says?" was the stern query.

"The Second Reader and the Secretary. I think you had better see them;
they both look worried. Really I do, Miss Allie."

"Very well, Ellen; but you must stay here, and if Holiest Mother makes
the slightest move, touch the bell. I'll not be gone five minutes."

Without arranging her hair or dress, Aline opened the folding doors of
the drawing-room. Only the centre lamp was lighted, but she recognized
the two men. They were sitting together, and arose as she entered. The
burly Second Reader wore a dismayed countenance. His cheeks were flabby,
his eyes red. The other was a timid little man who never had anything to
say.

"How is Holiest Mother?" asked the Reader.

"Dying."

"Oh, Sister Aline! Why