n the horse, so that
Dr. Prince could go in directly. Betty could hear the ominous word
"_sinking_," as they whispered together; then she was left alone. It
seemed so sad that this other girl should be near the door of death, and
so close to the great change that must come to every one. Betty had
never known so direct a consciousness of the inevitableness of death,
but she was full of life herself, and so eager and ready for whatever
might be coming. What if this other girl had felt so, too? She watched
the upper windows where the dim light shone, and now and then a shadow
crossed the curtain. Everything out-of-doors was quiet and sweet; the
moon went higher and higher, and the wind rustled among the apple-trees.
Some white petunias in a little plot near by looked strangely white, and
Betty thought that perhaps the other girl had planted them, and there
they were growing on. Now she was going to die. Betty wondered what it
would be like, and if the other girl knew, and if she minded so very
much. After a few minutes she found herself saying an eager prayer that
the doctor might still cure her, and keep her alive. If she must die,
Betty hoped that she herself might do some of the things that Lizzie
Edwards would have done, and take her place. When old people had to go,
who had done all they wished to do, and got tired, and could not help
thinking about having a new life, that was one thing; but to go now and
leave all your hopes and plans behind,--indeed, it seemed too hard. But
Betty had a sense of the difference between what things could be helped
and what were in God's hands, and when she had said her prayer she
waited again hopefully for a long time in the moonlight.

At last there seemed to be more movement in the house and she could hear
voices; then she heard somebody sobbing, and the light in the upper room
went quickly out.

The doctor came after a few minutes more, which seemed very long and
miserable. Pepper had fallen asleep, good old horse! and Betty did not
dare to ask any questions.

"Well, well," said the doctor, in a surprisingly cheerful voice, "I
forgot all about you, Miss Betty Leicester. I hope that you're not cold
this time, and I don't know what the aunts will have to say about us; it
is nearly eleven o'clock."

"I'm not cold, but I did get frightened," acknowledged Betty faintly;
then she felt surprisingly light-hearted. Dr. Prince could not be in
such good spirits if he had just seen his poor