Algitha rushed forward, and the nurse dragged up a chair.
Hadria had turned deadly white, and her hand groped for support.
She drew herself together with a desperate effort, and sat down breathing quickly. “I am not going to faint,” she said, reassuringly. “It was only for a moment.” She gave a shudder. “What a fight it was! We were only just in time——”
A low voice came from the bed. The patient was talking in her sleep. “Tell Hadria to come home if she does not want to kill me. Tell her to come home; it is her duty. I want her.”
Then, after a pause, “I have always done my duty,—I have sacrificed myself for the children. Why do they desert me, why do they desert me?” And then came a low moaning cry, terrible to hear. The sisters were by the bedside, in a moment. Their father stood behind them.
“We are here, mother dear; we are here watching by you,” Hadria murmured, with trembling voice.
Algitha touched the thin hand, quietly. “We are with you, mother,” she repeated. “Don’t you know that we have been with you for a long time?”
The sick woman seemed to be soothed by the words.
“Both here, both?” she muttered vaguely. And then a smile spread over the sharpened features; she opened her eyes and looked wistfully at the two faces bending over her.
A look of happiness came into her dimmed eyes.