feet square with no ventilation. He had the cottage, the Crowhursts,
presumably, were glad to get it, and he conferred a favour on them.

"Oh, Miss Catharine," said Phoebe, "this is kind of you! To think of
your coming over from Eastthorpe to see me, and after what happened
between me and Mrs. Furze! Miss Catharine, I didn't mean to be rude, but
that Orkid Jim is a liar, and it's my belief that he's at the bottom of
the mischief with Tom. You haven't heard of Tom, I suppose, Miss?"

"Yes, he is in London. He is doing very well."

"Oh, I am very thankful. I am afraid you will find the room very close,
Miss. Don't stay if you are uncomfortable."

Catharine replied by taking a chair and sitting by the bedside. There
was somewhat in Phoebe's countenance, Catharine knew not what, but it
went to her heart, and she bent down and kissed her upon the forehead.
They had always been half-friends when Phoebe was at the Terrace. The
poor girl's eyes filled with tears, and a smile came over her face like
the sunshine following the shadow of a cloud sweeping over the hillside.
Mrs. Crowhurst came into the room.

"Why, mother, what are you doing here? You ought to be abed. Where is
Mrs. Dunsfold?"

"Mrs. Dunsfold is laid up with the rheumatics, my dear. But don't you
bother; we can manage very well. I will stay with you at night, and just
have a bit of sleep in the mornings. Your sister can manage after I've
seen to father's breakfast and while I'm a-lying down, and if she wants
me, she's only got to call."

The mother looked worn and anxious, as though, even with Mrs. Dunsfold's
assistance, her rest had been insufficient.

"Mrs. Crowhurst," said Catharine, "go to bed again directly. If you do
not, you will be ill too. I will stay with Phoebe, at least for
to-night, if anybody can be found to go to Eastthorpe to tell my mother I
shall not be home."

"Miss Catharine! to think of such a thing! I'm sure you shan't," replied
Mrs. Crowhurst; but Catharine persisted, and a message was sent by
Phoebe's brother, who, although so young, knew the way perfectly well,
and could be trusted.

The evening and the darkness drew on, and everything gradually became
silent. Excepting Phoebe's cough, not a sound could be heard save the
distant bark of some farmyard dog. As the air outside was soft and warm,
Catharine opened the window, after carefully protecting her patient.
Phoebe was restless.

"Shall I read to you?"