Dr. Spense was soon awakened, and long as the time always seems to an anxious watcher by a sick-bed, Farmer Conyfer could scarcely believe his ears when he heard the rattle of the dogcart wheels up the steep road, or his eyes when the doctor, followed by Gratian, came up the staircase. "My boy, but you have done bravely!" said the father in amazement. "Doctor, I can't understand how he can have been so quick!" The doctor turned kindly to Gratian. "Go down, my good child, and warm yourself. I saw the sparkle of a nice fire in the kitchen--it is a bitter night. I will keep my promise to you; as I go away I'll look in." For Gratian, though not able to tell much of his mother's illness, had begged the doctor to promise to tell him the truth as to what he thought of her. "I'd rather know, sir, I would indeed, even if it's very bad," he had said tremblingly. And as he sat by the kitchen fire waiting, it seemed to him that never till now had he in the least understood how he loved his mother. It was a queer, boisterous night surely. For down the chimney, well-built and well-seasoned as it was, there came a sudden swirl of wind. But strangely enough it did not make the fire smoke. And Gratian, anxious though he was, smiled as a pretty green light seemed suddenly to dance among the flames. And he was neither surprised nor startled when a soft voice whispered in his ear: "I am here, my darling. I _would_ come for one moment, though White-wings has been trying to blow me away. Keep up your heart--and don't lose hope." And just then the doctor came in. "My boy," he said, as he stood warming his hands at the blaze, "I will tell you the truth. I am afraid your poor mother is going to be ill for a good while. She has not taken care of herself. But I have good hopes that she will recover. And you may do a good deal. I see you are sensible, and handy, I am sure. You must be instead of a daughter to her for a while--it will be hard on your father, and you may be of great help." Gratian thanked him, with the tears, which would not now be kept back, in his eyes. And promising to come again that same day, for it was now past midnight, the doctor went away. Some days passed--the fever was high at first, and poor Mrs. Conyfer suffered much. But almost sooner than the doctor had ventured to hope, she began to get a little better. Within a week she was out of danger. And then came Fergus's mother again. She had already come to ask for news of her little friend's mother, and in the first great anxiety she said nothing of the plans that had been made. But now she asked to see the farmer, and talked with him some time downstairs while Gratian watched by his mother. "I am so thankful to be better--so very thankful to be better before you go, Gratian," said the poor woman. "Oh yes, dear mother, we cannot be thankful enough," the boy replied. "I will never forget that night--the night you were so very ill," he said with a shiver at the thought of it.