"It seems rather incomprehensible, like a good many things connected with this house," Fergusson said, under his breath. He and Christina stood in what was evidently the drawing-room of the house—a long low room, furnished with the rather heavy and uninteresting furniture of the early Victorian period, the light-coloured chintzes on the chairs and sofas, and the pale grey of the walls, giving the only relief to the dinginess of the apartment.
"I am not more inquisitive than the rest of mankind," Fergusson went on, his eyes glancing round the room into which he had never before penetrated, "but I confess this establishment and its mistress do arouse my curiosity. However, her affairs are no affair of ours," he wound up briskly, "and my business now is to make her——" he broke off abruptly, and looked keenly at Christina, a great sadness in his eyes. "No, I can't say 'make her well'; there is no hope of that; but I've got to make her better."
"Do you mean," Christina asked; "do you mean—that she—can't—get really well?"
Fergusson shook his head. "She is worn out; something has worn her out; whether a long strain, or a great sorrow, I cannot say. But she has no more resisting power; she has come to the end of it all. And she is too ill now to be able to right herself again."
"It seems so dreadful," Christina whispered.
"So much in life seems so dreadful," he answered kindly; "but when some day we learn the reason for all that made things so impossible to understand, we shall know that the pattern has been worked out exactly right, by Hands far more skilful than ours. We can see only such a little bit of the pattern now. By and by we shall see the whole."
"Mrs. Stanforth is asking for the young lady," Elizabeth's voice sounded from the door. "She seems more like herself now; and she wants the young lady to come to her at once."
The doctor and Christina moved quickly away together to the bedroom, where Margaret lay with her face towards the door, her dark eyes full of wistful eagerness. Christina thought she had never seen anyone who looked so fragile, so ethereal; it seemed to the girl as though a breath might have power to blow her away. Yet her voice was curiously strong, and the eagerness in her eyes was apparent, too, in her voice.
"It was stupid of me to faint," she said, putting out her hands to the girl. "I expect I am not very strong, and all that suddenly flashed upon me when you showed me the pendant, came as a great shock."
"When I showed you the pendant?" Christina repeated, and there was unfeigned surprise in her glance. "But did you know; had you seen——"