"How can I thank you sir," she said, softly.
"Pshaw, Miss Annie! She owes more to you than to me. We can both thank God. She has been so close to the open gates, I think she can tell us something of what is inside."
One Thursday morning, twenty-six days from the time she left Grantbury, Marion opened her eyes and the light of consciousness dawned in them.
For one instant there was a bewildered expression as she gazed at her faithful watcher, who sat by her side; then she smiled, and said faintly,—
"It's Annie."
"Yes, dear."
"How came I in bed? I remember I felt ill in the cars."
"You have been sick, but you are much better now. Take a spoonful of this, dear, and go to sleep again."
"Lie down by me, Annie, and I'll try to sleep. You look pale and tired."
Annie smoothed the pillow, changed Marion's position, and then lay down on the outside of the bed, as she had done so many times during the last weary weeks.