her recital of
Wilhelmina's sufferings, as she alluded to the value of Mina to her
mother and the absent Rudolph, and then prayed for the merciful
interposition of God, the mother sobbed aloud, Phillida's faith rose
with the growing excitement of her pity, and she closed the prayer at
length without a doubt that Mina would be cured.

"I do feel a little better now," said Wilhelmina, when the prayer was
ended.

"I will bring you something from the Diet Kitchen," said Phillida as she
went out. The patient had scarcely tasted food for two days, but when
Phillida came back she ate a little and thought herself better.

Phillida came again in the afternoon, and was disappointed not to find
Mina improving. But the sick girl clung to her, and while Phillida
remained she would have nothing even from the hand of her mother. The
scene of the morning was repeated; again Phillida prayed, again
Wilhelmina was a little better, and ate a little broth from the hands of
her good angel.

The burden of the poor girl and her mother rested heavily on Phillida
during the evening and whenever she awakened during the night. Mrs.
Callender and Agatha only asked how she found Wilhelmina; they thought
it best not to intrude on the anxiety in Phillida's mind, the nature of
which they divined.

When breakfast was over the next morning Phillida hastened again to the
Schulenbergs.

"Ah! it is no good this time; I shall surely die," gasped Wilhelmina,
sitting bolstered on her couch and looking greatly worse than the day
before. "The night has been bad. I have had to fight and fight all the
long night for my breath. Miss Callender, my time has come."

The mother was looking out of the window to conceal her tears. But
Phillida's courage was of the military sort that rises with supreme
difficulty. She exhorted Wilhelmina to faith, to unswerving belief, and
then again she mingled her petitions with the sobs of the mother and the
distressful breathing of the daughter. This morning Wilhelmina grew no
better after the prayer, and she ate hardly two spoonfuls of the broth
that was given her. She would not take it from Phillida this time.
Seeing prayers could not save her and that she must die, the instincts
of infancy and the memories of long invalidism and dependence were now
dominant, and she clung only to her mother.

"You haf always loved me, mother; I will haf nobody now any more but
you, my mother, the time I haf to stay with you is so short.