Joanna waved and ran faster. It was all right after all. She need really not have worried, Linnet would not wave and shout if mother was dead. He must have dashed into the cottage just to tell her.

“I knew you would come,” – Linnet’s first words clashed with the sighing – “How is she?” that came from his sister as they both sped on without pausing a moment.

“She’ll be as right as rain now you are here,” he said soothingly (but with what relief!) as he took the breathless Joanna’s arm … “She was so pleased when your wire came.” And he told how their mother had been well – never in her life better – and in splendid spirits, till three days ago when she had been taken ill in the night with bad pains. In the morning she had been better, but worse again towards evening. It had only been yesterday morning, that he had gone, without telling her, to fetch the doctor. Mother had been cross. She was positive a strange doctor couldn’t understand her constitution, but she had been glad to see him all the same, and had taken his medicine. But this morning, all of a sudden, she had seemed rather low. It was good that Joanna had come to nurse her.

Joanna hardly listened to Linnet’s words. She heard in a heavy stupor of amazement his declaration that, though he had sent for her, he had not been the least anxious till this morning. But in her pocket she had his telegram of the day before giving her no hope. And for all his voluble reassurances he had not yet contradicted that message.

He waited in the tiny, littered sitting-room while his sister went through to her mother’s bedroom beyond.

There was a dreadful, cottage closeness in the air that puffed out to meet her as she opened the door. And mingling with it came an abhorrent breath, which the girl recognized though it had never before blown against her face.

VI

On the bed, under a tumbled patchwork quilt lay Juley. Without changing her uneasy attitude she turned her face as her daughter came in.

“My own dear child!” she said, with a curious, difficult utterance. But her eyes were lit up.

Joanna put her arms round her mother, kneeling by the bed, and the tears rained down her cheeks.

“I came as quick as I could, my darling,” she said, laying her head on Juley’s breast. “And now I’ll never leave you again.”

Juley stroked her child’s head in silence.

“How are you, dear? Are you better? Is the pain gone? Can I get you anything?”

“Quite gone. I’m better. No, nothing to drink … I’ll soon be well … but I’m uncomfortable, and how untidy the room is.”