approaching footsteps warned them of the doctor's coming. In silence
they saw the door open, and welcomed with a throb of relief the smile on
the physician's face.

"A great, a very great improvement," he said quickly, in answer to
Dorothy's supplicating eyes. "Quite wonderful. She is a woman of such
extraordinary character that, once conscious, we can count on her own
great will to save the day for us--and to-morrow you shall both see her.
To-night, little girl, you may go in and kiss her, very quietly--not a
word, you know. Just a kiss and go."

"Now?" whispered Dorothy, as if she were already in the sick room. "May
I go now?"

"Yes. No tears, you know, and no huggings--just one little kiss--and
then come back here."

Dorothy flew from the room, light and soundless as blown thistledown.
The doctor turned to his friend.

"There is something troubling her," he said gravely, "something that is
eating at her heart. Ordinarily I wouldn't consent to anyone seeing her
so soon; but she called for you in her delirium; and now that she is
conscious, she whispers that she must consult you. Perhaps you can
relieve her trouble, whatever it is. I'm going to chance it; after
Dorothy has seen her, you may. I don't know exactly what to say,
but--well, answer the question in her eyes, if you can--but only a
moment--only give her relief. She must have no excitement."

Gard nodded.