Susie's frozen heart melted. Tears came and sobs, till the sheet was wet,
and she could only speak in gasps.

"Mother _trusted_ me! I am going to mother, Amy. I can't bear it any
more. If Dick dies, it is me that did it. I was the only one who knew."

"Let me get your shoes," said Amy.

But Susie would not wait. She slipped out of bed on to the cold boards--a
small, miserable figure, disfigured with crying--whilst Amy watched her
breathlessly. She opened the door and listened. Every one seemed to be
asleep, except that in the room next door she heard hushed voices and the
tread of careful feet, then the rattle of a cup and Dick's cough. She
opened the door as gently as she could and looked in. The blind was up
and a fire burning. The tent of blankets had been pulled down, and Dick,
with the poultice still on his chest, was sitting up in bed, wrapped in
a soft red shawl. By the table stood nurse, making tea; and his mother,
looking pale and tired, was sitting by the crib. She looked up when the
door opened, and without a word held out her arms.

Susie fairly tumbled into them.

"O mother," she kept repeating, as if nothing more would come.

"_Susie!_" said mother.

"Oh, I have been awake all night!" Susie panted out the words. "If he had
died it would have been my fault. Mother, is he getting well?"

"My darling Susie," said mother, "I had not time to come to you. I never