She recalled a hundred things which might have shown her her danger, and she felt a sense of gratitude to poor Molly, who had been so far faithful that she had never let her young mistress out of her sight. She said to herself that her love was unworthily placed, and must be conquered, but the task was a hard one, and the poor girl was indeed very unhappy. Yet it somehow happened that the real trials did not fret Paulina's temper or wear out her patience as the imaginary ones had done. She was sad indeed, and often much depressed, but she was no longer fretful or peevish; she no longer wore her set, self-conscious expression, or spoke and moved like an automaton. She had found the secret of peace. In the time of her trouble she had sought the Lord, and found in Him not only forgiveness and remission of sin, but strength to resist temptation, to bear suffering with patience and humility. Her service was no longer one of constraint and fear, but of love—no longer the enforced task of a slave, but the free gift of a child. The twins, on their part, sobered by the trouble they had passed through, and pitying Paulina for the sorrow they only half understood, did their best, both in work and lessons, to please their sister and mother. And the school-room labors went on harmoniously and pleasantly enough for the most part, though now and then was heard a deep sigh or an impatient interjection, always followed by the exclamation: "I do wish Mrs. Winifred would get well, don't you, Pall?" answered by, "Yes, indeed I do, with all my heart!" And where, all this time, was Mrs. Winifred? In the great chintz bedroom, the very best room in the house, whither she had been carried by Lady Corbet's orders when stricken down with the fever, waited upon and tended by every one, from Sir John himself down to black Jack; nursed with jealous care by Ashwell, end visited by Doctor Mercer every day, and by Paulina every hour. She had passed the crisis of the disease, contrary to everybody's expectation, and Doctor Mercer said there seemed no reason why she should not get well, but day after day passed, and still she lay on her couch or leaned back languidly in the great chair, pale, thin, and weak, unable to eat, to talk, to employ herself in any way more than a few minutes at a time. It seemed as if the excitement and fatigue of nearly three years past had made themselves felt all at once.