she retorted, spiritedly. "But, I can buy them."

"Dear, I wouldn't force you to that expense to gain your point,"

said her brother, as he tenderly laid his arm around her shoulders. "They are in my trunk, and you can have them whenever you wish. But you are tired--go to bed now, and I hope you will have a good night's rest."

"I am afraid I have seemed cross and out of sorts, Phil. Perhaps I also am in a state of 'mental chemicalization,'" she said, with a faint smile that ended in a sob; "but, indeed, my heart is very sore. I shall read your books, and, if they appeal to me, I--shall have Christian Science treatment for my child," and there was a ring of something very like defiance in her voice which smote strangely on her brother's ear; for Emelie Seabrook had ever been regarded as one of the gentlest and least self-willed of women.

But the reading of the books was postponed, for Dorrie began to droop again, and the faithful mother could scarcely be persuaded to leave her even for necessary food and sleep. Mrs. Minturn, Katherine and Sadie were all tireless in their efforts to do something to lighten her burdens. Many a delicacy found its way to the cottage to tempt the capricious appet.i.te of the child; interesting incidents were treasured to relate to her, and many devices employed to shorten the weary hours.

But there came a time that tried them all, for, in spite of the greatest care and watchfulness, the girl contracted a sudden and violent cold, and became so seriously ill that Dr. Stanley--though he gave no sign of his fears--felt that the end was very near.

For three days he battled fiercely with the seeming destroyer, while her suffering drove them all to the verge of despair.

At sunset of the third day, while attempting to change her position, hoping to make her more comfortable, she suddenly lapsed into a semi-conscious state from which they could not arouse her.

When this condition had lasted for upwards of half an hour Mrs.

Seabrook turned despairingly to her brother.

"Can you do nothing, Phillip?" she asked.

"I am afraid not, Emelie, except to continue giving the stimulants to try to keep the spark of life a little longer," he returned with white lips.

His sister caught her breath sharply.

"Then--will you give her up to--Mrs. Minturn?" she cried, hoa.r.s.ely.

He bent a look of surprised inquiry upon her.

"I am going to try it," she went on, still in that unnatural tone.

"I am going to try to save my child, and--I do not care who says 'no.'"

Phillip Stanley went to her, took her white face between his hands and kissed her tenderly, as he said:

"Very well, Emelie, I will go at once for her, and, from my soul, I am glad that you have taken this stand."

He hurried from the house and went with all speed to the Minturn mansion. He found Mrs. Minturn on the veranda, Katherine and her guests having gone for a walk.

"Will you come with me?" he asked. "You are needed at once." He briefly explained the situation to her, and in less than five minutes they were both at Dorothy's bedside.

"Oh, can you do anything for her?" helplessly moaned the heart- broken mother as the woman entered the room.

"Dear heart, G.o.d is our refuge. He is the 'strength of our life'; of whom shall we be afraid?" Mrs. Minturn quoted in calm, sweet tones, as she slipped a rea.s.suring arm around Mrs. Seabrook's waist; and, standing thus, she repeated the ninety-first psalm through to the end; then dropping her face upon her hand, she treated silently for ten minutes or more.

Meantime Dorothy's half-opened lids had gently closed, hiding the sightless eyes, and she lay almost breathless upon her pillows.

Dr. Stanley, alertly observant of every change, believed it was the end; but, having relinquished his patient, knowing that he was absolutely helpless at this supreme moment, he made no sign.

Presently Mrs. Minturn broke the silence.

"Will you please leave me alone with her for a while?" she asked.

"Oh, I cannot leave my child!" panted Mrs. Seabrook, rebelliously.

"She is in our Father's care--our trust is in Him," Mrs. Minturn gently returned. "Go into the next room and lie down. I promise to call you if there is the slightest need, and, believe me, I ask only what is best."

Dr. Stanley took his sister by the hand and led her unresistingly from the room. He made her go to an adjoining chamber and lie upon a couch, then seated himself beside her.

To his amazement her tense form almost instantly relaxed and in twenty minutes she was asleep.

He sat there with his head bowed upon his hands for nearly two hours, thinking as he had seldom thought during his whole life. At the end of that time the door of Dorothy's room was noiselessly opened and Mrs. Minturn beckoned to him.

He went to her--softly closing to but not latching the door of his sister's room--to ascertain what she wanted, but with fear and trembling.

"Please get me a gla.s.s of warm milk," she said to him.

"There is some brandy--" he began.

"No; milk, if you please," she returned, and disappeared within the room.

A few minutes later he handed the gla.s.s in to her and the door was shut again.

Another endless hour and a half he pa.s.sed sitting upon a balcony that opened off the same floor, waiting--waiting for he knew not what.

Then Mrs. Minturn came to him with the empty tumbler in her hand.

"Have it filled again, please," she said.

"Is it for--Dorothy?"

"Yes; she has taken what you brought before and asked for more."

"Asked!" and in spite of his professional self-poise the man's heart bounded into his throat.

"Yes, she is awake; is perfectly conscious and free from pain, though weak, to sense; but we know that G.o.d is omnipresent strength," Mrs. Minturn replied, with an a.s.surance that proved to him she was confidently resting upon the Rock of Ages, and which also inspired him with hope.

When he returned with the milk he longed to go in and see for himself how the child was progressing, but Mrs. Minturn stood in the aperture of the half-opened door, and he instinctively knew that his presence was not desired.

As she took the gla.s.s from him she inquired:

"Is Mrs. Seabrook sleeping?"

"I think so--she was when I left her."

"Pray let her rest," said his companion; "but if she should wake tell her that Dorrie is more comfortable; that I shall remain with her all night and do not wish to be disturbed. And you, Dr.

Stanley"--with gentle authority--"you must try to rest also; you may safely trust the child to G.o.d, and with me as His sentinel, for she is doing well. But first, if you will slip over to the house and ask Katherine to send my night-wrapper I can make myself more comfortable; just drop it outside the door, then go to bed and 'be not faithless but believing,' Good-night."

She softly closed the door, and the man went obediently to do her bidding; while, "after the storm there was a great calm" in his heart.