invalid through her
convalescence.

"It is high time! You are worn out!" said Jack, scanning her face
anxiously.

It was pale and drawn, and after a quick scrutiny he rose and followed
her into the next room, saying in a low tone, "Mother, I believe you've
been having another one of those attacks. Have you?"

"Just a slight one, last night," she confessed. "But it was soon over."

He closed the door behind him, but low as the question had been, Mary's
quick ears caught both it and the answer, and she pounced upon him the
moment he reappeared, demanding to know what they were talking about. He
explained in an undertone, although he had again closed the door behind
him when he came back to the dining-room.

"That winter you were at Warwick Hall she had several queer spells with
her heart. The pain was dreadful for awhile, but the doctor soon
relieved it, and she made me promise not to tell you girls. She said she
had been over-exerting herself. That was all. It was that time the
Fitchs' house caught fire while they were away from home. She saw it
first and ran to give the alarm and help save things, and after it was
all over she had a collapse. I made her promise just now that she'd go
to bed and stay there till she is thoroughly rested. She's seen Doctor
Bates. He gave her the same remedies she had before, and she insists
she's entirely over it now."

With a vague fear clutching at her, Mary started towards her mother's
room, but Jack stopped her. "You mustn't go in there looking like a
scared rabbit. It will do her more harm than good to let her know that
you've found out about it. And really, I don't think there's any cause
for alarm, now that the attack is safely over. She responds so quickly
to the remedies that she'll soon be all right again. But she _must_ take
things easy for awhile."

All the rest of that day Mary was troubled and uneasy, notwithstanding
the fact that her mother dressed and came out to the supper-table,
seemingly as well as usual. Twice in the night Mary wakened with a
frightened start, thinking some one had called her, and, raising herself
on her elbow, lay listening for some sound from the next room. Once she
stepped out of bed and stole noiselessly to the door to look in at her.
The late moon, streaming across the floor, showed Mrs. Ware peacefully
sleeping, and Mary crept back, relieved and thankful.

CHAPTER VIII

A GREAT SORROW

Norman cut his foot the following day, w