When the doctor came in the evening, he was amazed at the change for the better in his young patient. All the fever had left her, and she lay very calm and quiet. Hollyhock suggested that a little camp-bed should be put up in the room, in which she might sleep; and as her power over Leucha was so remarkable, this suggestion was at once acceded to both by Dr Maguire and Mrs Macintyre. They had been really anxious about the girl in the morning; but now, owing to Hollyhock's wonderful management, Leucha slept all night long, the beautiful sleep of the weary and the happy.
Once in the middle of the night Hollyhock heard her murmur to herself, 'Love will find out the way,' and she stretched out her hand immediately, and touched that of Leucha, with a sort of divine compassion which was part of the instinct of this extraordinary child.
During the next few days Leucha was kept in bed and very quiet, and Hollyhock was excused lessons, being otherwise occupied. But a girl, a healthy girl, even though suffering from shock, quickly gets over it if properly managed, and by the middle of the week Leucha was allowed to go downstairs and sit in the ingle-nook, while the girls who had hitherto detested her crowded round to congratulate their beloved Hollyhock's friend.
'Yes, she's all that,' said Hollyhock; 'and now those who want me to talk with them and make myself agreeable must be friends with my dear Leuchy, for where I go, there goes Leuchy. Eh, but she's a bonnie lass, and she was treated cruel, first by our deserting her, and then by what will not be named. But she 's all right now.—You belong to me, Leuchy.'
'That I do,' replied Leucha; and so marvellously had love found out the way that the very expression of her unpleasant little face had completely altered. As Hollyhock's friend, she was now admitted into the greatest secrets of the school; but the real secret of the ghost was still kept back.
CHAPTER XX.
MEG'S CONSCIENCE.
All went well for a time in the school, and all would have gone well for a much longer period had it not been for Meg Drummond. Meg did not mean to make mischief; but, alas! she was troubled by a conscience. This she considered very virtuous and noble on her part; but she was also troubled by something else, which was neither virtuous nor noble. She seemed jealous—frantically jealous—of Leucha Villiers.
Lady Crossways had spoken of her young daughter as 'my cold, distinguished child, who never wears her heart on her sleeve.' Lady Crossways was very proud of this trait in Leucha, and Leucha herself was proud of it, and treasured and fostered it until she came across Hollyhock. From the first she was attracted by Hollyhock—a queer sort of attraction, a mingling of love and jealous hate; but now it was all love, all devotion. As a matter of fact, she tried Hollyhock very much, following her about like the kitchen cat when she smelt cream, fawning upon her in a way which soon became repulsive to Hollyhock, refusing to have any other friend, and over and over again in the day kissing Hollyhock's hands, her brow, her cheeks, her lips. All this sort of thing was pure torture to Hollyhock. But although she was terribly tried, she determined to go through with her mission, and hoped ere long to train Leucha into finer and grander ways. By their father's permission, Leucha was invited to accompany the Flower Girls to The Garden on a certain Saturday. The boys looked at her with undisguised disdain, and expressed openly their astonishment at Hollyhock's taste; but when she begged of them to be good to the poor girlie, the Precious Stones succumbed, as they ever did, to bonnie Hollyhock.