“The only one not upset in the house. That little girl 's an angel, John.” He blew his nose violently. “It appears she was stretching out her arm to pat the old dog's chaps, overreached herself a bit, and mechanically her head came away from the pillow. She called out to nurse, 'Nurse, I 've lifted my head.' Nurse flew up to her. 'What do you mean, darling?' She showed her. She showed her, by God! Nurse forbade her to do it any more, and flew down-stairs like a wildcat to tell us. Then we telephoned to Ransome. He saw her; she did it for him; then he came to us white and shaking all over. Naturally I wanted to see the darling child do it, too. Julia interfered. Stella must n't do it again till Cassilis came. Then we had the words. She said I was eaten through with egotism--I! Now, am I, John?” Presently Herold dashed, in, aflame with excitement. The story, such as it was, had to be told anew. “I 'll come with you to Cassilis, and then on to Southcliff.” “But your rehearsal?” said John. Herold confounded the rehearsal, even as John had confounded his review. In the presence of this thrilling wonder, trivialities had no place. Cassilis received this agitated and unusual deputation without a flicker of surprise. He was a baldheaded, prematurely old young man, with great, round spectacles. He gave one the air of an inhuman custodian of awful secrets. “I presume you have called with reference to this,” said he, indicating a telegram which he held in his hand. “I've just opened it.” “Yes,” said Sir Oliver. “Is n't it wonderful? You must come down with us at once.” “It's very inconvenient for me to leave London.” “My dear sir, you must throw over every engagement.” The shadow of a smile passed over the young man's features. “If you press the point, I'll come.” “But are n't you astounded at what has occurred? Don't you understand Ransome's message?” “Perfectly,” said Cassilis. “I 've already written to Dr. von Pfeiler--a week: ago--detailing the progress and full success of the case.” “Then you know all about it?” asked John. “Naturally. I've been practising her at it for the last fortnight, though she did n't realize what I was doing.” “Then why on earth did n't you tell us?” “I had arranged to tell you to-morrow,” said Cassilis. “I don't think you've acted rightly, sir,” cried Sir Oliver. “Never mind that,” said Herold. “Mr. Cassilis doubtless has his excellent reasons. The main thing is, Will her cure go beyond this? Will she get well and strong? Will she be able to walk about God's earth like anybody else?” The little gnome-like man straightened with his toe a rucked corner of the hearth-rug. He paused deliberately before replying, apparently unmoved by the anxious eyes bent on him. There was a span of agonized silence. Then he spoke: “This time next year she will be leading a woman's normal life.” [Illustration: 0180]