Molly looked up with eyes of entreaty.
"Let me stay," she said. "I promise to be perfectly quiet, and to do exactly what I am told."
"Yes, let her stay," said the doctor. "There is scarcely any nursing required at present; the patient only requires watching. You may make a little noise, if you like, girls. I don't like this long-continued insensibility. I shall be glad of anything to arouse my patient."
As he spoke he went to one of the windows and drew up the blind. It was evening, and the western sun streamed into the room. Some of its rays fell across the foot of the bed where Kate lay. Her long, black eyelashes lay heavy on her cheeks, her rich profusion of brown hair was flung back over the pillows, her face had a deathly pale, almost waxen, hue; she breathed so faintly that she scarcely seemed to breathe at all. The doctor bent over her and, lifting the eyelids, looked steadily into the eyes. "Bring me a candle," he said suddenly.
Molly started up to fetch one. She returned in a moment or two with a lighted candle in a candlestick, and gave it to Dr. Groves. He passed the light backward and forward before Kate's eyes, she never seemed to flinch. He dropped the lids again, and looked anxiously at Miss Forester.
"I should like to speak to you alone," he said.
Miss Forester took him immediately into the next room. The two girls sat where they were left, with beating hearts. What was the verdict? The doctor's face was very grave.
Miss Leicester, after a moment's hesitation, followed Miss Forester and the doctor into the next room. The girls, who were left behind, heard earnest conversation, an ejaculation or two from Miss Leicester; then footsteps going downstairs; then a great silence—the motionless, indifferent figure on the bed—the awful calm which might mean the end of all things.
Miss Leicester came back presently into the room, her eyes were red as if she had been crying. She stood close to Kate, and looked down at her; her eyes filled up with tears. Molly and Cecil felt their hearts in their mouths.