Mrs. Seabrook sighed anxiously.

“I wish she would have a doctor,” she said.  “We shall insist upon it if she is not better in the morning.  I have made her some gruel—­do make her take at least a part of it, for she has had no nourishment to-day.”

“Thank you, I will try; and do not worry, dear Mrs. Seabrook.  I will take the very best of care of her, I promise you,” said Katherine, cheerily.

“I know you will, you dear child; and you have removed a load from my heart already,” returned the care-laden woman, tears springing to her eyes.  Then she bade her good-night and left her, whereupon Katherine locked the door, and, slipping quietly into a chair, began working vigorously for her friend.

For more than an hour there seemed to be no change in her patient’s condition.  Indeed, if anything, the symptoms appeared to be aggravated; she tossed restlessly, the fever apparently increasing, while she called for water every few moments, but refused the gruel, saying she could not swallow it.

Eleven o’clock came—­half-past; then the long tolling of the tower clock proclaimed midnight ere Katherine was able to detect the slightest sign of improvement.  Then, as she responded to another call for water, she found that the fever had abated and there was a slight moisture in the palm of the hand, which she clasped for an instant.

Another half hour spent in alternate reading and work brought quiet, restful sleep.  But the faithful sentinel on guard labored on, now reading from her precious book, then seeking help from the only source whence cometh all help and comfort, and never doubting that the answer to her prayer would eventually come.

At two o’clock Miss Reynolds aroused and again called for water; then, after drinking thirstily, dropped restfully back upon her pillows.

At three she awoke once more and asked for the gruel.

“Kathie, I am better—­the fever is gone, and my throat is not so sore!” she said, smiling faintly into the earnest face looking down upon her.

“That is certainly good news,” Katherine returned, as she received the bowl half-emptied of its contents.  “Now go to sleep again, and I will lie down upon the couch.”

She lay awake, working, however, until the regular breathing from the bed told her that her patient was wrapped in slumber; when, assured that her toiling and rowing were over for the present, and God at the helm, she, too, dropped off, and knew no more until aroused by the rising bell at half-past six.

She started up, but her companion slept on, and, disliking to disturb her, she lay back and worked silently until the next bell, at seven-thirty, called to the morning meal.

Miss Reynolds heard it also, turned over and looked at her companion, then sat up and involuntarily put her hands to her throat.

An expression of astonishment swept over her face.

“Katherine! why, Katherine!” she exclaimed; “where is it?”