"Mr. Ward, please listen to me a moment. I know what this illness means--I have had it myself--Mollie will need two nurses; there would be no one to take care of her by day while the nurse rests, and any neglect would be an awful risk. Please let Moritz go and settle the business. There need only be one to-night, but the day-nurse must relieve her to-morrow morning. Let him have the address, and Noel can go with him; and then you must let me go up and see Mollie." And then Everard, in a dazed fashion, held out a folded piece of paper. "Two nurses! I shall be in the workhouse," they heard him mutter. But no one took any notice. "Althea, you are a trump," whispered Moritz, as she followed him into the passage. "Tell me anything she needs, and I will get it. Two nurses!--she shall have a dozen nurses. If the doctor approves, we will have a second opinion; we will have the great throat doctor, Sir Hindley Richmond, down." But what more Moritz would have said in that eager, sibilant whisper, was never known, for Althea gave him an impatient little push. "Go--go; there is no use in talking. I shall not leave until the nurse arrives." And then she went back into the studio. She had forgotten her nervousness now, her reluctance to enter Everard's house; her face glowed with kindly, womanly sympathy, as she approached him. "I am so sorry for you," she said, gently; "and I am sorry for dear Mollie, too, for it is such a painful complaint. But with good nursing I hope she will soon be well. Is Dr. Duncan a clever man?" "Oh, yes, I believe so," returned Mr. Ward, dejectedly; "but his charges are very high. Miss Harford, I am afraid we must manage with one nurse. I have not the means. I am a poor man." But Althea turned a deaf ear to this. It was far too early in the day to proffer help. He must not be told yet that he had good friends, who were only too thankful to be allowed to bear his burdens. For Mollie's sake, for Waveney's sake, and for poor Moritz's sake, there must be no indulgence of false and misplaced pride. He must be managed adroitly and with _finesse_ and female diplomacy--no masculine blundering must effect this. "How did Mollie catch it?" she asked, to turn his thoughts from the question of expense. But Everard could not answer this question. Mollie had not seemed well since Sunday, he said; she had been restless and irritable, and complained of feeling ill. She had been so feverish in the night that he thought it must be influenza, and he had sent for Dr. Duncan; but, early as it was, he had already started on his rounds, and had only just come. He would pay another visit later in the evening. Althea listened to this in silence; then she said, rather gravely,-- "Mr. Ward, what are we to do about Waveney? It will break her heart to be kept from Mollie; and yet----" Then he turned upon her almost fiercely, and there was an excited gleam in his eyes.