CHAPTER XLIII.

"WAITING FOR YOU!"

THE morning passed away peacefully.

Daisy was angelic, and though Mollie had still her little supercilious air which chafed Gertrude inwardly, she kept it enough within bounds to avoid rebuke.

When they came out from lessons, Mollie found that her mother was no better than she had been in the early morning, and nurse was busy with her.

"It is one of her heart attacks," said Mollie in a reproachful tone to Gertrude. "That is how she always is when she has any excitement or alarm. She will be ill for days, I expect, and nurse will hardly be able to leave her."

"I did not know she was subject to these attacks," said Gertrude.

"No, I suppose you did not, or, of course, you would have been more particular about Randall—"

"But, Mollie, it was Randall's own doing."

"Oh, well, there are two opinions about that. At any rate, what with the excitement about Lester, and now this about Randall, mother is perfectly upset, and it is a great bother."

Gertrude did not pursue the subject. She gathered her books together, wondering if she could be spared to go to her sister, but not liking to employ Mollie as her messenger to ask this question.

Daisy came in at the moment and settled the difficulty.

"Miss Ashlyn, mother is not well enough to visit your sister to-day. But would you please go and enjoy yourself. Mother hopes Mrs. Leigh will have good news for you, and that you will be able to help her."

Gertrude sent a message in reply. And then the dinner gong rang, and they went down to their rather forlorn meal, Mollie presiding instead of her mother, and Randall sitting at the side, but eating very little and talking less.

The moment after dinner, the girls dressed to go to their cousins, Randall went back to the nursery, and Gertrude was set free.

When she went out, anxious as she was to get to her sister, as she turned to shut the gate, her eyes fell upon the Strange House, and she thought of Mrs. Swift.

No, she must hasten on to see Rose, she thought.

And yet—yet—it would not take five minutes to greet the poor, desolate woman who had so recently lost so much.

A moment's indecision, and then she turned that way and walked up the garden path.

Her ring at the bell brought Mrs. Swift very quickly to the door.

A haggard face, with anxious, sunken eyes, met hers.

"Mrs. Swift! You have been ill," exclaimed Gertrude.

"It's my husband!" was her abrupt answer. "He will not have a doctor, and I'm at my wits' end!" She opened the door wide, and Gertrude stepped within it.

"What is the matter?"

"I do not know!"

"Is he very bad?"

"Well, not to say very bad, but he's too ill to leave his bed. We were going to move at once, but now we can't, and he says he shall stay till Christmas."

"I will come and see him to-morrow, if I can," said Gertrude. "I am on my way to visit my sister and her little boy."

"Little Lester, miss?" asked Mrs. Swift, forgetting for a moment her own anxiety.

"Yes."

"It was kind of you to tell me, miss. Has he been to a doctor yet, miss?"

"Yes; I have not seen my sister yet, but I believe he has been."

"I hardly dare to ask, miss,—I am sure I have no right; but—does the doctor give any hope, miss?"

"I can hardly tell you, because I know so little myself. But I think he does hope that time may improve him. Time and care, and sunshine and sea air."

Again Mrs. Swift gave one of her long, deep-drawn breaths. "Ah! He did not have all those with me," she said sadly.

"No, Mrs. Swift. Shall you think me unkind if I say that the doctor gave it as his opinion that he was brought away just in time?"

Mrs. Swift nodded sadly. "I knew it," she said. "Oh, miss, if you had not come along that night, and had not stopped to speak to me! Oh, miss, how can I thank you?"

"Do not thank me, but God," said Gertrude gently. "Now I must go, but tell your husband from me that I do entreat him to have a doctor; perhaps he would accept a message from me?"

"He thinks a deal of you, miss, in a quiet way—"

"Then say so, and remember that you have a mighty Saviour now to help you in everything. Tell Him all about your husband, and He will do for you what you cannot do yourself."

She hastened away, and sped to the high-road, where she hoped to meet with a cab or omnibus which might expedite her journey to the Great Northern Hotel.

As she turned the corner, pacing up and down with quiet, patient step, was a figure which she instantly recognized.

It was walking away from her, but when it came to the next road, it turned and came towards her slowly.

"Otto!" she exclaimed. "Whatever brought you here?"

"I have been waiting for you! Your note told Rose you would come in the afternoon. I have been waiting for you for a long time, Gertrude!"

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