'But for you to be so much alone? Well, I suppose he thought there would be soon somebody to take care of you. We have the good news now that those poor people seem to be all getting well. Arthur reports that there are no new cases. I am most thankful!' Hazel answered with merely a gesture of assent. She had no words to say that she could say. 'I suppose Dane would be soon out of quarantine now.—But he is not quite well himself, Arthur tells me; knocked up by watching and incessant exertions, I suppose.' For a minute Hazel held her breath—growing so white that even the old doctor must see it. Then she turned away from him in a gentle, noiseless way, and leaned her head down upon the back of her chair. She must have support somewhere. 'It is nothing but a low feverish affection,' Dr. Maryland hastened to say. 'May be tedious, perhaps, for a while, but shews no dangerous symptoms at present. We must not anticipate evil, my dear.' Hazel did not answer that; but presently she sat up again and asked one or two quiet questions as to time and place. 'He is at Gyda's, my dear; they took him up there, being the nearest place. Mrs. Boërresen is a good nurse, and devoted to him; and so is Arthur. He will not want anything. Hazel, my child, can you cast your cares off on the one arm strong to help?' She started up and went to the fire, picking up brands and pushing the red coals right and left, until the wood burst out into brilliant flame. And all the time she was saying to herself, 'He will not have me,—he does not want me.' But she came back to her place again without a word. Dr. Maryland looked on, pitying, feeling for her, and yet oddly without anything to say. He had lived so long and seen so much of life and had got so far above its changes; more, he had lived so much in his study and felt life so little except in contemplation, and with so small an admixture of practical experience of human nature, that he looked at the young thing before him and was conscious of his unreadiness, and in some sort of his unfitness, to minister to her. 'Are you lonely, my dear? Would you like to have Primrose come and keep you company?' 'Oh no!' said Hazel hastily. Then she began again, and tried to catch up her eager words and soften off their corners; speaking with a wistful affectionate tone that was half pleading, half deprecating. 'I mean—I do not want anybody with me, sir. I am out a great deal—and sometimes very busy at home. And—some other time, maybe, Primrose will come.' Dr. Maryland considered her with a recognizing smile on his lips, and a very tender look in his thoughtful eyes. 'I understand,' he said. 'There is room in the house for only one presence just now.—Are you going to be a true helpmeet to Dane, Hazel, in all his work?'