down to her brother with her handkerchief to her eyes.

A dreary half-hour followed before the doctors came down, the two
occupants of the room gazing up at them with appeal in their eyes as
they vacated their chairs in the great man's favour.

"I can only say, Mr William Forth Burge, that we must hope," said the
great baronet. "It is the most ordinary form of typhoid fever, and must
have its course. I may add that I almost regret that you should have
called me down, unless my opinion is any comfort to you; for I can
neither add to nor detract from the skilful treatment adopted by my
_confrere_, Doctor Bartlett, who is carefully watching the case. What
we want is the best of nursing; and, at any cost, let the poor girl be
taken to some light, wholesome, airy room."

"Might we risk moving her?" panted Mr Burge.

"It is a grave risk; but it must be ventured, with the greatest care,
under Doctor Bartlett's instructions; for I have no hesitation in saying
that if our patient stays here she will die."

"God bless you, Sir Henry; I'd have given all I possess for that!"
gasped Burge, as he placed a slip of paper in the doctor's hands.

There was the drive back to the station, the little train steamed out,
and that evening, while poor Feelier Potts slept, Hazel Thorne was
carried down to the Burges' carriage, and lay that night in the west
room, to keep on talking incessantly of her cruelty to one who had been
so noble, so true, and good, and to make appeals to him for his
forgiveness, as she now knew how to value his honest love.

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

MRS THORNE RECEIVES.

Hazel Thorne's illness came like a shock to Plumton All Saints, and the
opposing members of the committee, who had been instrumental in gaining
her dismissal, looked angrily one at the other, as if that other one was
specially to blame. The Reverend Henry Lambent sent down messengers to
know how Miss Thorne was progressing, and later on sent the same
messengers to the Burges' for news.

"Will you not go down and see Mrs Thorne, Rebecca--Beatrice?" he said,
one day, appealingly. "This is a troublous time."

"We had already felt it to be a duty, Henry, and we will run all risks
in such a cause."

There was not the slightest risk in going to the schoolmistress's
cottage, and the sisters went down, to find Mrs Thorne weak and almost
prostrate with illness and anxiety, but ready to draw herself up stiffly
to receive her visitors.

"Cissy,