Rose went into the dining-room and began to eat from a plate of fruit and cakes on the sideboard. "Are you going up to see mother?" asked Felicia after a while. She had remained in front of the drawing-room fireplace. "No," replied Rose from the other room. "I won't trouble her tonight. If you go in tell her I am too tired to be agreeable." So Felicia turned into her mother's room, as she went up the great staircase and down the upper hall. The light was burning there, and the servant who always waited on Mrs. Sterling was beckoning Felicia to come in. "Tell Clara to go out," exclaimed Mrs. Sterling as Felicia came up to the bed. Felicia was surprised, but she did as her mother bade her, and then inquired how she was feeling. "Felicia," said her mother, "can you pray?" The question was so unlike any her mother had ever asked before that she was startled. But she answered: "Why, yes, mother. Why do you ask such a question?" "Felicia, I am frightened. Your father--I have had such strange fears about him all day. Something is wrong with him. I want you to pray--." "Now, here, mother?" "Yes. Pray, Felicia." Felicia reached out her hand and took her mother's. It was trembling. Mrs. Sterling had never shown such tenderness for her younger daughter, and her strange demand now was the first real sign of any confidence in Felicia's character. The girl kneeled, still holding her mother's trembling hand, and prayed. It is doubtful if she had ever prayed aloud before. She must have said in her prayer the words that her mother needed, for when it was silent in the room the invalid was weeping softly and her nervous tension was over. Felicia stayed some time. When she was assured that her mother would not need her any longer she rose to go. "Good night, mother. You must let Clara call me if you feel badly in the night." "I feel better now." Then as Felicia was moving away, Mrs. Sterling said: "Won't you kiss me, Felicia?" Felicia went back and bent over her mother. The kiss was almost as strange to her as the prayer had been. When Felicia went out of the room her cheeks were wet with tears. She had not often cried since she was a little child. Sunday morning at the Sterling mansion was generally very quiet. The girls usually went to church at eleven o'clock service. Mr. Sterling was not a member but a heavy contributor, and he generally went to church in the morning. This time he did not come down to breakfast, and finally sent word by a servant that he did not feel well enough to go out. So Rose and Felicia drove up to the door of the Nazareth Avenue Church and entered the family pew alone.