aid Richard, with a groan, pacing up and down
the room, "what am I to do?"

"In _His_ name, if you come, to that," said the Doctor, who was a good
sort of man, notwithstanding his professional cool ways, "there is a
sisterhood, that I am told offer to do things like this. I never sent to
them, for I only heard of it a short time ago; but if you have no
objection to crosses, and caps, and ritualistic nonsense in its highest
flower, I have no doubt, that they will let you have a sister, and that
she'll do good service here."

"The direction," said Richard, too eager to be civil. "How am I to get
there?"

The Doctor pulled over a pocket-case of loose papers, and at last found
one, which he handed his companion.

"I give you three quarters of an hour to get back," he said. "I will
stay here till then, at all events. Do not waste any time--nor spare any
eloquence," he added to himself, as Richard hurried from the room.

CHAPTER XIX

SISTER MADELINE.

Yes! it is well for us: from these alarms,
Like children scared, we fly into thine arms;
And pressing sorrows put our pride to rout
With a swift faith which has not time to doubt.

_Faber._

Learn by a mortal yearning to ascend
Towards a higher object. Love was given,
Encouraged, sanctioned, chiefly for that end;
For this the passion to excess was driven---
That self might be annulled; her bondage prove
The fetters of a dream, opposed to love.

_Wordsworth_.

The next thing that I recall, is rousing from slumber, or something
related to slumber, and seeing a tall woman in the dress of a sister,
standing by my bed. It was night, and there was a lamp upon a table
near. The unusual dress, and the unfamiliarity of her whole appearance,
made me start and stare at her, half raising myself in the bed.

"Why did you come here?" I said. "Who sent for you?"

"I came because you were sick and suffering, and I was sent in the Name
----" and bending her head slightly, she said a Name too sacred for
these pages.

I gave a great sigh of relief, and sank back on my pillow. Her answer
satisfied me, for I was not able to reason. I let her hold my hand; and
all through that dark and troubled time submitted to her will, and
desired her presence, and was soothed by her voice and touch.

Sister Madeline was not at all the ideal sister, being tall and dark,
and with nothing peculiarly devotional or pensive in her