Then she walked on, swaying slightly from side to side.

Marjorie put her hand quickly to her forehead.

"I never felt less in sympathy with Belle than I do at this moment," she said. "Now, you, Leslie, really soothe me; it was nice to feel you kneeling by my side. It seemed to me that some of your faith came to me.

I do not feel nearly so unhappy now; not so restless, nor so uncertain."

Leslie kissed her.

"I can understand that," she said; "you have put the matter into G.o.d's hands-you are resting on G.o.d; that is the reason why you do not feel so miserable."

The girls entered the little boudoir which Mrs. Chetwynd had so carefully prepared for her darlings. Lettie was seated by the window.

"Where have you both been?" she cried. "I have been looking for you everywhere. Aunt Helen is in a painful state of excitement."

"What about?"

"Well, nurse did not much like Eileen's state, and Dr. Ericson came in a hurry, and he says he wishes another doctor to be called in, one of the very great specialists. The doctor is coming almost immediately. Aunt Helen says we are none of us to go upstairs. There is to be the most absolute quiet, and fresh straw has been ordered to be put down in the street. Leslie, are you really going to stay here?"

"She certainly is," said Marjorie. "I wouldn't part with her on any account."

"I will write a line to mother if you will allow me," said Leslie. "Of course, if I can be of the least use to Marjorie, I shall be glad to stay."

"Here is paper, if you want it," said Lettie. "I am very glad you are staying, for my part."

Leslie wrote a short note. When it was finished, Lettie took it from the room.

"I cannot sympathize with Lettie either," said Marjorie when Lettie had gone. Then she sat down by the window, and did not speak any more.

Sometimes she closed her eyes, and sometimes Leslie, who had taken up a book, and was trying to read, fancied she saw her lips moving. Was she once again praying to G.o.d? Was faith, the first real faith she had ever known, truly visiting her heart, and helping her through this dark hour of tribulation?

Mrs. Chetwynd did not come downstairs again; and presently the footman appeared, and told the girls that dinner was ready.

"I cannot eat," said Marjorie. "Eat, when all that makes life valuable hangs in the balance?"

"But you must eat, dear," said Leslie; "you will feel much worse if you do not. Come with me."

"Do, Marjorie, try not to be such a humbug," said Lettie in an almost cross voice. "You don't know how you add to the trouble of everybody when you go on in that silly way. First of all, Leslie, she absolutely immured herself in Eileen's room, refused to leave it day or night, and distracted poor Aunt Helen and the nurse, and now that she has come out of the room, she is doing her utmost to make herself ill."

"Don't say any more!" cried Marjorie. "I will come downstairs." Her face was white as death.

The three girls entered the dining room. Leslie's persuasions, joined, perhaps, to some of Lettie's tarter remarks, induced Marjorie to take a little food; but the oppression and solemnity of the scene seemed to have got into the air.

Presently the sound of wheels, m.u.f.fled as they drove over the straw, was distinctly heard, and then two doctors' broughams drew up at the door.

Dr. Ericson got out of his and an elderly, benevolent-looking man out of the other. They both entered the house.

"What shall I do?" cried Marjorie. "I cannot stand this."

"Oh, I feel somehow it will be all right; and remember we have prayed about it," said Leslie.

She went up to Marjorie.

"Come back to the boudoir," she said. "You are nearer to her there."

"Well, I shall stay here," said Lettie. "I don't know what there is about you, Leslie, and about Marjorie; but the pair of you make me feel quite nervous. We are doing all we can-that is, Aunt Helen is; and really I do think that one ought to try to retain a little strength of mind. If the very worst of all had happened, you could not be going on more terribly than you are at present, Marjorie."

"I cannot help feeling, if that is what you mean," said Marjorie. She went upstairs, and Leslie followed her. The noise of people walking overhead was heard.

"They are in her room now," said Marjorie. She clutched hold of Leslie still tighter.

"Oh, Leslie, what should I do if you were not with me? You know she is my twin; no one was ever quite so near to me. We think the same, we do everything the same. All our pursuits, all our desires, are the same. I cannot live without her. If she dies I shall die."

"But she shall not die, dear!"

"Oh, I know, but she is in such terrible danger now. You said, Leslie, that if it were good for her, G.o.d would spare her."

"And He will, Marjorie; cannot you try to understand? If it is best for her to go to G.o.d, He will not leave her in the world just because you selfishly wish it. But it may be best for her to stay here; she may have much to do yet in her life on earth."

"If she is spared I shall become religious at once," said Marjorie.

Leslie could not help smiling.

"Were you not religious before?" she asked.

"Oh, after a fashion, but never the real thing. Eileen and I both professed a little, and Eileen, the darling, was, I believe, in earnest; but I don't think I ever was. I wanted, of course, to lead a useful life, and I thought myself very much better than mother or Mrs. Acheson.

I believe now that I was selfish about mother; perhaps we both were, even darling Eileen; but, you know, she always did what I did. I was the first to suggest a thing, and then Eileen followed suit. If we were selfish she was not to blame. Leslie, Leslie, the doctors are coming downstairs. I wonder if they will tell us anything? I know mother won't for a long, long time."

"I'll go and ask, then," said Leslie, jumping up. She went to the door, opened it, and stepped on to the landing.

The two doctors came downstairs.

"And what young lady is this?" said Dr. Howard, pausing for a moment and looking at her. He was a tall and very benevolent-looking man, with white hair and dark eyes.

"I want to know," said Leslie-she paused. Marjorie had not dared to come out of the boudoir. "I want to know the truth-if there is-any hope?"

"Are you the sister of the young lady?" asked the medical man.

"No, only a great friend; but her sister, her twin sister, is in the other room, and she wants to know, and cannot find out."

"I understand; too upset to ask, poor girl," said the doctor. "Ericson, if you will permit me, I'll go in and see that young lady."

"Oh, how kind of you!" said Leslie. She opened the door, and both doctors went in.

Marjorie had flung herself down in a chair, and covered her face with her hands.

"Now, my dear girl, what is this?" said Dr. Howard. "We shall be having two patients instead of one if this sort of thing goes on. Give me your hand. I a.s.sure you, Ericson, this young lady's pulse is bounding at such a rate that we shall have her in a fever if we don't look out. This will never do. As to your sister, Miss Chetwynd--"

"Oh, what about her?" cried Marjorie. She flung down her hands, and looked up at the doctor with eyes full of agony.

"Good gracious! what a likeness between the two," said Dr. Howard.