"Is she very sick?" was the next inquiry.
"Yes, very sick."
"And does no one care for her but her husband?"
"No one."
"Has she suffered for care,—a woman's care, I mean?"
"Well, not exactly; and yet she might be more comfortable with a woman about her. Women are naturally better nurses than men, and Mr. Thornton is quite worn out, but it does not make much difference now; the lady——"
Daisy did not hear the last part of the sentence, and bidding him good-night, she went back to the hotel as swiftly as she had left it, while the doctor stood watching the flutter of her white dress, wondering how she found it out, and if she would "tell and raise Cain generally."
"Of course not. I know her better than that," he said, to himself. "Poor woman" (referring then to Julia). "Nothing, I fear, can help her now."
Meanwhile, Daisy had reached the hotel, and without going to her own room, bade Sarah tell her the way to No. —.
"What! Oh, Miss McDonald! You surely are not——" Sarah gasped, clutching at the dress, which her mistress took from her grasp, saying: