The nurse shook her head.
“She is very ill indeed,” she answered.
“Do you mean,” said Leslie, turning pale, “that there is danger?”
“Don’t ask me,” said the nurse. “We are doing what we can for her; but in God’s hand alone are the issues of life.”
She stole back to the sick-room, and Leslie returned to Marjorie.
Marjorie was now sitting up on the bed. Her chin rested on her hands; her eyes, with a startled, strained look in them, turned slowly to Leslie when she entered the room.
“I heard you talking to nurse,” she said. “Did she—did she—tell you—anything?”
“Nothing special, dear, except that she was sure I
might stay here. I could not find your mother, and nurse took the responsibility of giving me leave.”
“Oh, of course you may stay. It is not that I mean; but did she tell you anything—anything about Eileen?”