Maud was anxious, depressed; her conscience was pricking her with regard to Christian. But her anxiety and her depression were nothing at all compared to the terrible feelings that swept over Susan's brain. If Christian died, she felt that she could never hold up her head again; and yet even to save Christian's life she did not believe she could humble herself to the extent of confessing all her wrong-doing since Christian had come to the school.
Towards morning she became drowsy and dropped off asleep. Maud had long been sleeping peacefully by her side.
When the girls awoke little Jessie was looking down at them. Jessie's eyes were red as though she had been crying very much. Susan started up, her face turned white.
"Is she frightfully bad?" she gasped.
"Oh, I don't know," said Jessie. "The doctor won't say. She has been delirious all night, and is now asleep. I don't know what to think. I came to tell you both, dear girls, to dress very quietly, and not to make the slightest noise. All the girls in the White Corridor are to be moved to-day in order that she may have perfect stillness. The doctor says that her brain is very much affected. He cannot imagine what can have happened to her. He says she has got a terrible shock."
"Oh, dear!" said Susan.
"You don't look well yourself, Susan. Have you a cold?"
"Yes. My throat aches, and my eyes ache."
"Well, get up quietly, dear, and go downstairs. There will be big fires in all the sitting rooms, and the boudoirs will be made thoroughly comfortable. I am glad you had a fire last night, girls. Yes, we must hope for the best."