heed. She rushed on, and soon disappeared
from view inside the deep portico of the old house.

Two or three moments later she was sitting without her hat and jacket,
and with a pair of noiseless house-slippers on her feet, by Judy's
bedside.

All the preparations which had been made with such care and pains by
Babs the night before were still making the nursery look pretty. The
little china animals sat in many funny groups on the mantelpiece. The
white and blue violets lay in a large bowl on a table by Judy's side.
One of the little sleeper's hands was thrown outside the counterpane.
Hilda touched it, and found that it burned with a queer, uncomfortable
dry heat.

"But how quietly she is sleeping," said Mrs. Quentyns, looking up with
tears in her eyes at Aunt Marjorie; "why are you so solemn and
sad?--surely this sleep must be good for her."

"My dear, Dr. Harvey calls Judy's state more stupor than sleep. He says
the most extraordinary things about the child ... that she has been
over-excited and subjected to a severe mental strain, and he fears
mischief to the brain. But surely he must be wrong, for nothing _could_
exceed the quiet of our life at the Rectory since the money has gone and
you have left us, and no one could have been less excited in her ways
than Judy has been since your marriage. I can't make out what Dr. Harvey
means."

"I think I partly understand," said Hilda; her voice had a choking
sound. "Don't talk so loud, Aunt Marjorie," she said impatiently; "you
will wake her--you will disturb her."

"But that is what we wish," interrupted the old lady. "The doctor says
we must do everything in our power to rouse her. Ah, and here he comes;
he will speak for himself."

"I am glad to see you, Mrs. Quentyns," said Dr. Harvey. "Your not coming
last night when the child expected you was a grave mistake, but better
late than never."

He stopped speaking then, and bent over the little sleeper.

"Draw up the blind," he said to Aunt Marjorie, "let us have all the
light we can. Now don't be frightened, Mrs. Quentyns--I am not going to
hurt the child, but I must examine her eyes."

Hilda felt as if she could scarcely restrain a stifled scream as the
doctor lifted first one lid and then the other, and looked into the
dark depths of the sweet eyes.

"The child has got a shock," he said then. "I feared it when I called
early this morning. I don't say for a moment that she will not get
better, but her state i