Put your poor head in my lap, dear, and lie quite still while I cool
and comfort it."

Obeying like a worn-out child, Helen lay motionless while Christie,
dipping her fingers in the basin, passed the wet tips softly to and
fro across the hot forehead, and the thin temples where the pulses
throbbed so fast. And while she soothed she sang the "Land o' the
Leal," and sang it well; for the tender words, the plaintive air
were dear to her, because her mother loved and sang it to her years
ago. Slowly the heavy eyelids drooped, slowly the lines of pain were
smoothed away from the broad brow, slowly the restless hands grew
still, and Helen lay asleep.

So intent upon her task was Christie, that she forgot herself till
the discomfort of her position reminded her that she had a body.
Fearing to wake the poor girl in her arms, she tried to lean against
the basin, but could not reach a cushion to lay upon the cold stone
ledge. An unseen hand supplied the want, and, looking round, she saw
two young men standing behind her.

Helen's brothers, without doubt; for, though utterly unlike in
expression, some of the family traits were strongly marked in both.
The elder wore the dress of a priest, had a pale, ascetic face, with
melancholy eyes, stern mouth, and the absent air of one who leads an
inward life. The younger had a more attractive face, for, though
bearing marks of dissipation, it betrayed a generous, ardent nature,
proud and wilful, yet lovable in spite of all defects. He was very
boyish still, and plainly showed how much he felt, as, with a hasty
nod to Christie, he knelt down beside his sister, saying, in a
whisper: