"I don't think she ever sleeps," Nathalie confided to Helen one day in a troubled voice. "Whenever I speak to her she is always wide-awake, and once or twice I have thought I heard her crying."
Helen shook her head sadly, and watched the mails with an increasing impatience for the answer to her letter. It came at last, and when she had read it through hurriedly, she went at once to Jean's room, and sitting down beside her, took her cold little hands in hers.
"Do you feel so badly to-day, dear?" she said tenderly.
"No, Helen, only very tired."
The sigh with which these words were spoken went right to Helen's heart.
"Would you like to go away where you would have a complete change of scene?"
Jean raised herself on her elbow, and turned an eager eye toward her sister.
"Oh, yes. I want to go away. It's the only thing in the world I really want, and oh, I want it so very much. Helen, I—I can't stay here." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Don't you see how hard it is for me?"
Helen bent down and kissed her.
"Well, darling, I have arranged it for you, and I have only been waiting for this letter to tell you that it was all right. You see, I didn't want to speak to you, dear, until everything was settled. Now, shall I read you what the letter says?"