Under her vigorous action one of the larger rooms was cleared out and made ready, and when the doctor came Harold was moved, under his personal supervision. "I shall stay here till he is out of danger," she said to the doctor as he was leaving, "and please ask my maid to go out and get some clean bed linen and bring it down here at once--and tell her to send Mr. Doris here, won't you?" The doctor promised to attend to these matters at once. She sat by the bedside of the sufferer bathing his hands and face as if he were a child, talking to him gently with a mother's grave cadences. He was now too weak to resist any command, and took his medicine at a gulp like a young robin. * * * * * Late in the afternoon as Mrs. Raimon returned from an errand to the street she was amazed to find a tall and handsome girl sitting beside the sick man's bed holding his two cold white hands in both of hers. There was a singular and thrilling serenity in the stranger's face--a composure that was exaltation, while Harold, with half-closed eyelids, lay as if in awe, gazing up into the woman's face. Mrs. Raimon waited until Harold's eyes closed like a sleepy child's and the watcher arose--then she drew near and timidly asked: "Are you Mary?" "Yes," was the simple reply. The elder woman's voice trembled. "I am glad you've come. He has called for you incessantly. You must let me help you--I am Mrs. Raimon, of Wagon Wheel--I knew him there." Mary understood the woman's humble attitude, but she did not encourage a caress. She coldly replied: "I shall be very grateful. He is very ill, and I shall not leave him till his friends come." She thought immediately of Jack, and sent a telegram saying: "Harold is here ill--come at once." She did not know where to reach Mr. Excell, so could only wait to consult Jack. Mrs. Raimon remained with her and was so unobtrusively ready to do good that Mary's heart softened toward her--though she did not like her florid beauty and her display of jewels. A telegram from Jack came during the evening: "Do all you can for Harold. Will reach him to-night." He came in at eleven o'clock, his face knotted into anxious lines. They smoothed out as his eyes fell upon Mary, who met him in the hall. "Oh, I'm glad to see you here," he said brokenly. "How is he--is there any hope?" In his presence Mary's composure gave way. "O Jack! If he should die now----" She laid her head against his sturdy shoulder and for a moment shook with nervous weakness. Almost before he could speak she recovered herself. "He only knew me for a few moments. He's delirious again. The doctor is with him--oh, I can't bear to hear him rave! It is awful! He calls for me, and yet does not know me. O Jack, it makes my heart ache so, he is so weak! He came to see me--and then went away--I didn't know where he had gone. And all the time he was starving here. O God! It would be too dreadful--if he should die!"