If Magda had never prayed before—and probably she had at times, however fitfully—she did pray, fervently and passionately, in these days of suspense.
No one in the house thought now that she did not care. Little though she said, the burden was plainly written on her face. Even Mr. Royston had ceased to reproach her; and Pen was kind; and Frip often clung to her with childish pity. But there was no comfort. Magda felt that there never could be any comfort, if Merryl should die.
She saw life in truer colours than ever before. There are times when we get away from earth-mists, and gain clear views of the true proportions, the true values of things. This was one such time. Many a resolution she made in those sorrowful waiting hours—if only Merryl might recover!
Rob came down to see them. He thought nothing of infection for himself, being used to sick-rooms of all kinds; and he had hoped to see Merryl, but against this Mr. Royston laid an embargo. If Rob went to that room, he might not come back among the rest. Rob was about to agree, about to say that he would return home that evening, when his eyes fell upon Magda. He knew in a moment that she needed him more than Merryl.
No opportunity came before night for any word alone with her. Magda kept up and seemed resolutely to hold aloof.
And next morning the cloud lifted. Merryl was better. Definite improvement had set in; and the doctor, coming early, spoke in cheerful tones of recovery.
Until that moment Magda had not been seen to give way. But when Mr. Royston came in, radiant with the good news, and when she learnt that confident hopes might at last be indulged, she looked wildly round as if for escape. She rushed away, without a word, to the deserted school-room, and knelt down, hiding her face on folded arms, to sob out her vehement thanksgiving for this merciful escape from a life-long sorrow.
Pen found her thus; and she might as well have tried to stop a gale of wind with her hand, as to stay with words that tempest of weeping. As with many who seldom are mastered, when Magda was mastered, it was very completely. She did not even know that Pen had been, or was gone. But presently a strong quiet hand was on her shoulder, gently pressing it, and in time Rob's voice said—
"That will do!"
Magda sobbed on, and again came the words—