“Oh, Georgie,” cried Mabel, with sudden envy, “I would give anything to care for any one as you do for Dick! You look quite different when you talk about him. If only I wasn’t such a cold-hearted wretch! I wish I had cared for poor Mr Brendon, even; that would be better than caring for no one but myself.” She broke into a storm of tearless sobs, and Georgia hailed the appearance of Rahah with the sleeping-draught, which she was obliged to administer almost by force. It was some time in taking effect, but at last the sobs died away, and she was able to leave the patient in charge of her own ayah, while she went about her other duties. Not until the morning of the next day did Mabel wake again, very much ashamed of her behaviour, which she was conscious had not been exactly in accordance with the high aspirations she had formerly confided to Georgia. Resolved to redeem her character, she sprang out of bed at once, and when Georgia came into her room on tiptoe, expecting to find her asleep, she was already dressed. “Let me do something to help you,” she said eagerly. “You must have had a fearful amount of extra work thrown on you yesterday. What can I do?” “Well, if you are so benevolently inclined, you might sit with the Commissioner a little,” said Georgia. “He was asking for you all day, and rather suspected us of concealing something dreadful from him.” “Very well,” said Mabel readily. The proposal exactly fell in with her wishes, for she had conceived a magnificent idea while dressing. By her diplomacy she would induce the Commissioner to reverse his frontier policy. “Miss North!” Mr Burgrave started up from his pillows as Mabel entered the sickroom, but becoming suddenly conscious of his injuries, he sank back again stiffly. “Excuse my left hand,” he added. “The other is off work just now. And how are you? Really not much the worse?” “I had no business to be any the worse,” returned Mabel. “Nothing happened to me, thanks to you and--the others.” “Ah, but the shock to the nerves must have been exceedingly severe,” said Mr Burgrave soothingly. “As I remarked to Tighe yesterday, Mrs North would have got over anything of the kind in an hour or two, but you are much more highly strung.” Mabel was vaguely aware that the comparison was intended to be in her own favour, but she could not agree that the advantage was on her side, and she changed the subject hastily. “I don’t know how to thank you for what you did. Every time I think of that evening I feel more and more how grateful I ought to be. And I am, indeed, but I can’t say what I should like.” Mr Burgrave raised his hand. “Please don’t, Miss North, or you will make me more miserable than I am already. How can I forget that I did nothing to help you? Mr Anstruther had that happiness, while I was lying on the ground under my horse.” “But you tried--you did all you could--you are so terribly hurt!” protested Mabel.