“I wonder if I could do anything to change Mr. Moore’s opinions,” she said slowly. “I have seen so much of both sides that I ought to be able to speak with authority. At present he distrusts me; he has scarcely spoken a word to me this evening, but of course he may have just felt in a taciturn mood. If I can win him over from anti-Semitism to common sense, will you excuse the petticoat interference for once, Mr. Holmes?” He smiled good-humouredly at her naïve use of his own expression, but quickly regained his gravity as the door opened to admit the Countess. The unfortunate little lady seemed full of trouble, and sank on to the settee with an expression of despair. Athelstan was behaving in a most ridiculous manner, and declared he would have no trained nurses creeping about the house. “He wants me to nurse her myself, with the assistance of an old and trusted servant of his first wife’s,” she said, in a voice which was almost tearful. “He says Phyllis has a horror of strangers. But, Patricia, how can I? I know I’m not strong, and I should be sure to catch it. My throat feels quite sore already at the mere thought.” She looked the picture of misery, with her pale face and troubled eyes. Patricia wondered that she could so easily collapse, but taking pity on her, made a sudden resolve. “Would Mr. Moore be satisfied if I undertook to nurse her in your place?” she said impulsively, without giving herself time to consider the consequence. “Phyllis will probably remember me; I am not quite a stranger. And I am a good nurse—I like it. So if you will have me, I am quite willing to stay.” Mr. Lawson Holmes cast her a glance of admiration. It seemed to him that her beautiful eyes shone with the light of heroism; and he recognised that hers was the material of which soldiers are made. But the Countess could not conceal her astonishment. “You!” she exclaimed, starting to her feet. “Oh, Patricia, you _can’t_ mean it? Why should you do it for the child of Athelstan Moore? And think of the responsibility and the risk. Diphtheria is so infectious. Are you not afraid?” “Afraid? No.” The girl met her gaze bravely. “I shall not neglect the necessary precautions, you may be sure; but even if I do take the disease, it won’t matter—much. Away from my husband, I don’t care what happens to me, and that is the very reason why I shall be immune. Besides, this would be what Lionel calls a _Mitzvah_—a good deed which brings a blessing. Oh, I should like to do it; it would give me something to occupy my thoughts!” Her words unconsciously betrayed the unhappiness of her present position. Her recklessness with regard to the danger amounted almost to desperation; and she seemed to have fully made up her mind. So the Countess, with a feeling almost of awe, went to acquaint the Premier of her unselfish offer; she could not understand her cousin’s frame of mind in the least.