battle to the strong."

He was still looking at her as he spoke. She was looking straight before
her, her nostrils slightly distended, her grey eyes wide, as if she
sniffed the battle, saw the goal.

"We must make her strong," said he.

She had quickened her pace as if under a renewed impulse of energy and
will. Suddenly at the door of the College she stopped and held out her
hand.

"You will look after her well, will you not?" Her voice was resonant on
the note of appeal.

Now you could withstand Rhoda in her domineering mood if you were strong
enough and cool enough; but when she looked straight through your eyes in
that way she was irresistible. Cautley did not attempt to resist her.

He went on his way thinking how intolerable the question might have been
in some one else's mouth; how suggestive of impertinent coquetry, the
beautiful woman's assumption that he would do for her what he would not
do for insignificant Miss Quincey. She had taken it for granted that his
interest in Miss Quincey was supreme.

CHAPTER V

Healers and Regenerators

Rhoda had spoken to Miss Cursiter. Nobody ever knew what she said to
her, but the next day Miss Cursiter's secretary had the pleasure to
inform Miss Quincey that she would have leave of absence for three
months, and that her place would be kept for her.

Miss Quincey had become a person of importance. Old Martha fumbled about,
unnaturally attentive, even Mrs. Moon acknowledged Juliana's right to be
ill if her foolish mind were set on it. There was nothing active or
spontaneous in the Old Lady's dislike of her niece, it was simply a habit
she had got.

An agreeable sense of her dignity stole in on the little woman of no
account. She knew and everybody knew that hers was no vulgar illness.
It was brain exhaustion; altogether a noble and transcendental
affair; Miss Quincey was a victim of the intellectual life. In all the
five-and-twenty years she had worked there St. Sidwell's had never heard
so much about Miss Quincey's brain. And on her part Miss Quincey was
surprised to find that she had so many friends. Day after day the
teachers left their cards and sympathy; the girls sent flowers with love;
there were even messages of inquiry from Miss Cursiter. And not only
flowers and sympathy, but more solid testimonials poured in from St.
Sidwell's, parcels which by some curious coincidence contained everything
that Dr. Cautley had suggested and Miss Quincey refused