'This sickness is not unto death.'
The news that the crisis had passed, and that the disease that had so long baffled the physician's skill had taken a favourable turn, soon spread over the town like wildfire; the shadow of death no longer lingered on the threshold of the vicarage; there were trembling voices raised in the Te Deum the next morning; the vicar's long pause in the Thanksgiving was echoed by many a throbbing heart; Mildred's book was wet with her tears, and even Chrissy looked softened and subdued.
There were agitated greetings in the church porch afterwards. Olive's sick heart would have been satisfied with the knowledge that she was beloved if she had seen Roy's glistening eyes and the silent pressure of congratulation that passed between her father and Richard.
'Heriot, we feel that under Providence we owe our girl's life to you.'
'You are equally beholden to her aunt's nursing; but indeed, Mr. Lambert, I look upon your daughter's recovery as little less than a miracle. I certainly felt myself justified to prepare you for the worst last night; at one time she appeared to be sinking.'
'She has been given back to us from the confines of the grave,' was the solemn answer; and as he took his son's arm and they walked slowly down the churchyard, he said, half to himself—'and a gift given back is doubly precious.'
The same thought seemed in his mind when Richard entered the study late that night with the welcome tidings that Olive was again sleeping calmly.
'Oh, Cardie, last night we thought we should have lost our girl; after all, God has been good to me beyond my deserts.'
'We may all say that, father.'