"Yes; she is a good, reliable woman—a woman in a thousand," said Mr. Hollys gravely. "I too wish that she were here."
"She would come, I have no doubt, Guy, if you were to ask her," suggested Miss Hollys. "Additional help is really wanted, for Lucy cannot do everything. Of course we could hire a nurse, but it would be much better to have Miss Burton."
"But how can I ask her for our sakes to leave her home now?" said Mr. Hollys. "You forget that to-morrow will be Christmas Day."
"No, I do not," said Miss Hollys; "but she is very fond of Beryl. I believe she would gladly come for her sake."
"True. Yes, I think she would," replied her brother thoughtfully.
And then he sat in silence for a while, musing over the suggestion his sister had made. Presently he rose and went to the library, and having paced to and fro that room for some minutes in anxious deliberation, he sat down at his writing-table, and taking pen and paper, wrote a letter to Miss Burton.
And though it would hardly be true to say that he asked Miss Burton to come, for he did not venture to do more than hint how greatly she was needed, his letter had the effect of bringing her to Egloshayle two days later.
[CHAPTER XXIX]
THE DAWN OF A NEW LIFE
THE stillness of night had fallen on Egloshayle House. All the household had retired to rest save two, who were sitting up for Beryl's sake. Hettie Burton sat beside the bed in the dimly-lighted room. Beryl had not recognised her since her coming. The child was muttering to herself whilst her head tossed restlessly on the pillow. Her nurse bent over her and bathed her head, uttering gentle, soothing words, which Beryl seemed not to hear. Yet gradually, as she continued her loving services, the child grew quieter. She moved less often, her talking ceased, her breathing became more regular, and at last, with deep thankfulness, Miss Burton saw that she slept.