Leslie knew that she must on no account awaken her. Approaching her softly, she took her hand. Annie immediately stopped in her wild pacings; she did not withdraw her hand from Leslie’s. Leslie led her toward the bed, taking care not to speak. Using a little force, she got Annie to sit down on the edge of the bed; then raising her feet gently she covered her with the bedclothes, and stood by her, still retaining her hand. After a time, Annie seemed to feel the comfort of that warm pressure; she ceased to moan, her eyes closed, the frown vanished from her brows, and she fell into a heavy sleep.
Leslie now knelt down and gazed into the face of the sleeper.
“What can be the matter with her?” she thought. “Can I find out? Is there any way in which I can comfort her? I wish mother were here. There is no doubt she is carrying a terrible heavy burden, and she won’t let anyone help her. What did that letter mean?”
The sleeper moaned heavily.
“This will kill me,” she muttered; “I can’t stand it.”
“God will give you strength, dear,” said Leslie aloud. She stooped and kissed Annie on her brow, then she went back to her own bed.
During the rest of the night Leslie hardly slept, but Annie never stirred. In the morning Annie got up, looking
much as usual, but having not the slightest remembrance of the little scene through which both she and her roomfellow had lived during the night.
The day’s work began and continued. Annie was if possible even more assiduous in her studies. She had only one lecture to attend that morning, and, the moment it was over, returned to her desk by the open window, and worked away without intermission at her mathematics.
Leslie had three lectures to go to, and was thankful for this, as she did not care to be alone in the room with Annie.