CHAPTER XIII.

ON THE ROAD TO THE CELESTIAL CITY.


When Cecile awoke from the long swoon into which she had sunk, it
was not to gaze into the hard face of Lydia Purcell. Lydia was
nowhere to be seen, but bending over her, with eyes full of
compassion, was Jane. Jane, curious as she was, felt now more sorrow
than curiosity for the little creature struck down by some mysterious
grief.

At first the child could remember nothing.

"Where am I?" she gasped, catching hold of Jane's hand and trying to
raise herself.

"In yer own little bed, honey. You have had a faint and are just
coming round; you'll be all right in a minute or two. There, just one
tiny sup more wine and I'll get you a nice hot cup of tea."

Cecile was too weak and bewildered not to obey. She sipped the wine
which Jane held to her lips, then lay back with a little sigh of
relief and returning consciousness.

"I'm better now; I'm quite well now, Jane," she murmured in a
thankful voice.

"Yes, honey, you are a deal better now," answered Jane, stooping
down and kissing her. "And now never don't you stir a bit, and don't