Lydia believed that Frederic had shot himself. She put Yvonne down as the real cause of the calamity that had fallen upon the house. But for her, James Brood never would have had a motive for striking the blow that crushed all desire to live out of the unhappy boy. She had made of her husband an unfeeling monster, and now she prayed! She had played with the emotions of two men, and now she begged to be pardoned for her folly! An inexplicable desire to laugh at the plight of the trifler came over the girl, but even as she checked it another and more unaccountable force ordered her to obey the impulse to turn once more to look into the face of her companion. Yvonne was looking at her. She had ceased telling the beads, and her hands hung limply at her sides. For a full minute, perhaps, the two regarded each other without speaking. “He is not going to die, Lydia,” said Yvonne gravely. The girl started to her feet. “Do you think it is your prayer, and not mine, that has reached God's ears?'” she cried. “The prayer of a nobler woman than either of you or I has gone to the throne,” said the other. Lydia's eyes grew dark with resentment. “You could have prevented all------” “Be good enough to remember that you have said all that to me before, Lydia.” “What is your object in keeping me away from him at such a time as this, Mrs Brood?” demanded Lydia. “You refuse to let me go in to him. Is it because you are afraid of what------” “There are trying days ahead of us, Lydia,” interrupted Yvonne. “We will have to face them together. I can promise you this: Frederic will be saved for you. To-morrow, next day, perhaps, I may be able to explain everything to you. You hate me to-day. Everyone in this house hates me, even Frederic. There is a day coming when you will not hate me. That was my prayer, Lydia. I was not praying for Frederic, but for myself.” “For yourself? I might have known you------” “You hesitate? Perhaps it is just as well.” “I want to say to you, Mrs Brood, that it is my purpose to remain in this house as long as I can be------” “You are welcome, Lydia. You will be the one great tonic that is to restore him to health of mind and body. Yes, I shall go further and say that you are commanded to stay here and help me in the long fight that is ahead of us.” “I thank you, Mrs Brood,” the girl was surprised into saying. Both of them turned quickly as the door to Frederic's room opened and James Brood came out into the hall. His face was drawn with pain and anxiety, but the light of exaltation was in his eyes. “Come, Lydia,” he said softly, after he had closed the door behind him. “He knows me. He is conscious. Hodder can't understand it, but he seems to have suddenly grown stronger. He------”