Lady Desborough sat up in bed propped up with pillows, dressed in such flowing garments as Dinah had been able to array her in, her eyes shining in anxious expectation, her panting breath showing the oppression caused by the murkiness of the atmosphere.  But in spite of the peril of the situation, to which she had now awakened with full comprehension; in spite of the fatigue of being partially dressed, with a view to sudden flight; in spite of the horror of knowing herself to be alone with Dinah in this flame-encircled house, her spirit rose to the occasion, triumphing over the weakness of the flesh.  Dinah had feared that the knowledge of the peril would extinguish the faint flame of life; but it seemed rather to cause it to burn more strongly.  The fragile creature looked full of courage, and the fears she experienced at this moment were less for herself than for others.

“My dear lord! my dear lord!” she kept repeating.  “Dinah, if he were living nothing would keep him from me.  Where is he gone?  Dost thou think he will return in time?”

“I think so, my dear lady,” answered Dinah in her full, quiet voice; “I pray he may come soon!”

“Yes, pray for him, pray for him!” cried the lady clasping her hands, “I have not prayed for him enough.  Pray that his precious life may be preserved!”

Dinah clasped her hands and bent her head.  Her whole faculties seemed merged in one great stress of urgent prayer.  The lady looked at her and touched her hand gently.

“You are a good woman, Dinah Morse.  I am glad to have you with me; but if my good lord come not soon, you must save yourself and fly.  I will not have you lose your life for me.  You have not strength to bear me hence, and I cannot walk.  You must fly and save yourself.  For me, if my dear lord be dead, life has nothing for me to desire it.”

“Madam,” answered Dinah, in her calm, resolute way, “your good lord, my master, entrusted you to my care, and that charge I cannot and will not quit whatever may betide.  God is with us in the midst of the fire as truly as He was in the raging of the plague.  He brought me safe through the one peril, and I can trust Him for this second one.  Our lives we may not recklessly cast away, neither may we fly from our post of duty lightly, and without due warrant.”

Lady Desborough’s thin white fingers closed over Dinah’s steady hand with a grateful pressure.

“Thou art a good woman, Dinah,” she said.  “Thy presence beside me gives me strength and hope.  Truly I should dread to be left alone, and yet I would not have thee stay if the peril becomes great.”

“We will trust that help may reach us shortly,” answered Dinah, who realized the magnitude of the peril far more clearly than did the sick lady, who had no idea of the awful extent of the fire.

That it was a bad one she was well aware, and in perilous proximity to their dwelling; but Dinah had not told her, nor had she for a moment guessed, that half the city of London was already destroyed.