owly upwards, till a silent, one-armed figure arose and softly drew
the curtain.

The room grew dim again. The world was shut out. She was not conscious
of physical fatigue, only of a certain weariness of waiting, waiting
for she knew not what. It seemed interminable, but she would not seek
to end it. She was as a soldier waiting for the order to quit his
post.

There came a slight movement at last. Someone touched her, whispered
to her. She looked up blankly, and saw the nurse. But understanding
seemed to have gone from her during those long hours. She could not
take in a word. There arose a great surging in her brain, and the
woman's face faded into an indistinct blur. She sat rigid, afraid to
move lest she should fall.

She heard vague whisperings over her head, and an arm that was like a
steel spring encircled her. Someone lifted her burden gently from her,
and a faint murmur reached her, such as a child makes in its sleep.

Then the arm that supported her gradually raised her up till she
was on her feet. Mechanically she tried to walk, but was instantly
overcome by a sick sense of powerlessness.

"I can't!" she gasped. "I can't!"

Nick's voice answered her in a quick, confident whisper. "Yes, you
can, dear. It's all right. Hang on to me. I won't let you go."

She obeyed him blindly. There was nothing else to do. And so,
half-led, half-carried, she tottered from the room.

A glare of sunlight smote upon her from a passage-window with a
brilliance that almost hurt her. She stood still, clinging to Nick's
shoulder.

"Oh, Nick," she faltered weakly, "why don't they--pull down the
blinds?"

Nick turned aside, still closely holding her, into the room in which
she had rested for the earlier part of the night.

"Because, thank God," he said, "there is no need. Olga is going to
live."

He helped her down into an easy-chair, and would have left her; but
she clung to him still, weakly but persistently.

"Oh, Nick, don't laugh! Tell me the truth for once! Please, Nick,
please!"

He yielded to her so abruptly that she was half-startled, dropping
suddenly down upon his knees beside her, the morning light full upon
his face.

"I am telling you the truth," he said. "I believe you have saved her
life. She has been sleeping ever since sunrise."

Muriel gazed at him speechlessly; but she no longer suspected him of
trying to deceive her. If he had never told her the truth before that
moment he was telling it to