"She was almost chattering, one time," says Miss Fossett. "Poor little darling!"
"About her Daddy?"
"Yes, and about the high and low tides, and how he went sea-voyages."
"Fancy that! The little soul! But no delirium?"
"I think none. Just a little feverishness—in the half-waking. Not delirium."
"You go to bed now. I'll call you if there is anything."
"Promise to!" A nod satisfies the speaker, who goes away to lie down. As she looks out, from a window on her way, across a sea without a ripple, she understands why the tide was unheard. Even now, scarcely a sound! She pauses a little to look at the planet blazing above the offing, and its long path of light upon the water—wonders is it Venus or Jupiter?—and passes on to rest. How callous is the bed one lies down on in one's clothes, with something over one, to get a few hours' sleep! And how hard they are to get, sometimes!
Adeline Fossett had had over three hours when she waked with a start in response to a hand on her shoulder. "I should like you to come," said Miss Jane, who then returned at once.
Lizarann, or the shadow that had been she, was propped up with pillows on the bed when Miss Fossett followed her friend two minutes later. "Is that Teacher?" was what she seemed to say. But speech was very faint indeed.