"I don't know as I want to go into Richmond's house when he's away, now we're not the same."
"Don't make any difference whether it's Richmond's house or whether it ain't, if there's sickness," returned Sabrina briefly. But at the doorstone she paused a moment, to add with some recurrence of the intensity the girl had seen in her that other day: "Ain't you glad you got somethin' to do for him? Ain't you glad? You go ahead an' do what you can, an' call yourself lucky you've got it to do."
And Clelia very humbly did it. Then it was another week, and the two friends had not met; but again at twilight Clelia took her walk, and this time she found Sabrina stretched out on the lounge of the sitting-room. There was a change in her. Pallor had settled upon her face, and her dark eyebrows and lashes stood out startlingly upon the ashen mask. Clelia hurried up to her and knelt beside the couch.
"What is it, Sabrina?" she whispered. "What is it?"
Sabrina opened her eyes. She smiled languidly, and the girl, noting the patience of her face, was thrilled with fear.
"How's Richmond's mother?" asked Sabrina.
"Better. She's sitting up. I sha'n't be there any more. He's coming home to-night."
"Richmond?"
"Yes. The doctor said there wasn't any need of sending for him, and I'm glad we didn't, now. Sabrina, what's the matter?"
"I had one of my heart-spells, that's all," said Sabrina gently. "There, don't you go to lookin' like that."