Joyce was frightened; she had had some experience in illness; but illness of this nature she had never witnessed, and she was fervently hoping never to witness it again.

In the adjoining room lay Lady Isabel, sick nearly unto death.
The door from the corridor slowly opened, and Miss Carlyle slowly entered.

She had probably never walked with so gentle a step in all her life, and she had got a thick-wadded mantle over her head and ears.

Down she sat in a chair quite meekly, and Joyce saw that her face looked as gray as the early dawn.
"Joyce," whispered she, "is there any danger ?" "Oh, ma'am, I trust not! But it's hard to witness, and it must be awful to bear." "It is our common curse, Joyce.

You and I may congratulate ourselves that we have not chose to encounter it.