Sheila was accustomed to defer to Oscar’s judgment, and she was kindly by nature, though frank and candid. She did not see much good in hushing things up, but she promised not to speak herself of what the fireman had said. She rather hoped it would come out to some of the rest; she did not think that North would be easily deceived. He had been very indignant about Cyril’s conduct. But upon reaching home the current of her thoughts was soon turned in another direction. Effie was ill! There was no gainsaying it this time. Fanciful she might be, and others for her, but the shock and the fright of the fire had been too much for her. She had lapsed into unconsciousness during the drive home with her father, and now, though put to bed and with the doctor in attendance, she had shown no signs of animation. Sheila was not permitted to go up to the room, and glad was she that Oscar was with her. Suppose Effie should die! The thought sent the blood ebbing from Sheila’s cheeks. “Oh, I wish I had cared more for her, I wish I had not been so selfish so often. Oscar, I begin to be afraid I am selfish. I do think first what I like myself, and then I try to invent reasons for doing it. I have so often left Effie alone and gone out riding, or doing things that amused me. Oh, I wish I hadn’t now!” “I’m afraid we’re all rather like that,” answered Oscar. “I know I am. Perhaps things like this—that fire, and now Effie—are sent to pull us up and make us think. It came over me when for a moment one wondered whether there would be any getting out, how little one had done with one’s life. Perhaps it will help us to think more, Sheila. I’m sure I need it.” “If you do, I do much more,” said Sheila; and they sat clinging together in the dusk, till at last the sound of steps and voices on the staircase roused them, and Sheila started up crying— “Oh, there is the doctor. Let us go and ask him.” He was coming down with Mrs. Cossart; she was looking greatly upset, but his face wore a look of grave cheerfulness, and they heard him say— “Yes, she will want care—great care—for some time to come, but there is nothing to agitate yourself about—no probability of a return of that condition. Let her be kept perfectly quiet, and she will sleep right away now. What I have given her will ensure that. I will look in first thing to-morrow morning.” Sheila stood trembling in the hall below, and hearing words which proved to her that Effie was better, she suddenly burst into tears and sobbed uncontrollably. “Tut, tut,” said the doctor kindly, “what is the matter here?” “She was upset to hear about her cousin’s illness,” said Oscar, answering for her. “She was in the Town Hall too, and I think we all got a fright, and coming home to hear of illness had upset her quite.”