"Is this the worst room you have?
Get the best bed in the house ready.

I want this man to have the cleanest room you have.

Hurry! Telephone to the Western Palace and ask Doctor Sanborn to come at once--tell him Mrs.Raimon wants him." Under her vigorous action one of the larger rooms was cleared out and made ready, and when the doctor came Harold was moved, under his personal supervision.

"I shall stay here till he is out of danger," she said to the doctor as he was leaving, "and please ask my maid to go out and get some clean bed linen and bring it down here at once--and tell her to send Mr.Doris here, won't you ?" The doctor promised to attend to these matters at once.
She sat by the bedside of the sufferer bathing his hands and face as if he were a child, talking to him gently with a mother's grave cadences.
He was now too weak to resist any command, and took his medicine at a gulp like a young robin.
* * * * * Late in the afternoon as Mrs.Raimon returned from an errand to the street she was amazed to find a tall and handsome girl sitting beside the sick man's bed holding his two cold white hands in both of hers.
There was a singular and thrilling serenity in the stranger's face--a composure that was exaltation, while Harold, with half-closed eyelids, lay as if in awe, gazing up into the woman's face.
Mrs.Raimon waited until Harold's eyes closed like a sleepy child's and the watcher arose--then she drew near and timidly asked: "Are you Mary ?" "Yes," was the simple reply.
The elder woman's voice trembled.

"I am glad you've come.