"Well, I wish you'd let me put your sheets a little straight; there, that's better. Now I'm going to turn your pillow. And Susy, do let me push all that tangled hair out of your eyes. Now I'm going to kneel here, and you must shut your eyes. I promise you shall see Ermie. Good-night, Susy; go to sleep."
Miss Nelson waited quietly in the little kitchen downstairs. The voices in Susy's sickroom ceased to murmur; presently Mrs. Collins stole softly upstairs. She returned in a few minutes accompanied by Marjorie. There were tears in the poor woman's eyes.
"My Susy's in a blessed, beautiful sleep!" she exclaimed. "And it's all owing to this dear little lady; may Heaven reward her! I don't know how to thank you, Miss Marjorie. Susy hasn't been in a blessed healthful sleep like that since she broke her leg. It puts heart into me to see the child looking quiet and peaceful once again. And now I'll go upstairs and sit with her."
Miss Nelson and Marjorie walked quickly home together. When they reached the house, the little girl made one request of her governess.
"I want to write to Ermie. May I do it to-night?"
"No, my love, I must forbid that. You are much too tired."
"But it is so important—far more important than I can tell you, and I promised Susy."
"Maggie, do you want Ermengarde to come home?"
"Oh, yes; she must come home."
"Then you shall send her a telegram in the morning."