ess. He is very good to them all, but they will not try to
understand him: it is not right of Gladys to treat him as a stranger.
I am sorry for them all, but I begin to feel that Mr. Hamilton is not the
only one to blame.'

I wished I could have told him this, but I knew the words would never
get themselves spoken. I might be sorry for him in my heart, but I could
never tell him so, never assure him of my true sympathy. I was far too
much in awe of him: there are some men one would never venture to pity.

But all the same I longed to do him some secret service; he had been kind
to me, and had helped me much in my work. If I could only succeed in
bringing him and Gladys nearer together, if I could make them understand
each other, I felt I would have spared no pains or trouble to do so.

If he were not so infatuated on the subject of his cousin's merits, I
thought scornfully, I should be no more sanguine about my success; but
Miss Darrell had hoodwinked him completely. As long as he believed in all
she chose to tell him, Gladys would never be in her proper place.

As soon as it was light I heard Mr. Hamilton stirring in the room below.
He came up for a moment to tell me that he was going home to breakfast;
he looked quite fresh and brisk, and declared that he had had a capital
night's sleep.

'I am going to find some one to take your place while you go home and
have a good seven hours' rest,' he said, in his decided way. 'I suppose
you are aware that you have not slept for forty-eight hours? Kitty is
going to make you some tea.' And with this he took himself off.

I went into Phoebe's room presently. Kitty told me that she was awake at
last. As soon as she saw me she put up her hands as though to ward off my
approach.

'Wait a moment,' she said huskily. 'You need not tell me; I know what you
have come to say; I have no longer a sister: Susan is a saint in heaven.'

For a moment I hesitated, afraid to speak. She had nerved herself to bear
the worst, and I feared the revulsion of feeling would be too great. As I
stood there silently looking down at her drawn, haggard face, I felt she
would not have had strength to bear a fresh trial. If Susan had died
Phoebe would not have long survived her.

'You are wrong,' I said, very gently. 'I have no bad news for you this
morning. The inflammation has diminished. Susan breathes more easily:
each breath is no longer acute agony.'

'Do you mean that she is better?' staring at