"Is she very, very bad?" said Susan at last.
"The doctor says she gets weaker and weaker."
"Is there no hope, then?" asked Maud, with terror in her voice.
"Oh, Maud! I don't know; I can't tell. All I know is that she can scarcely be worse and live; but the doctor does say that while there is life there is hope. That's about all."
"Oh, dear!" said Maud. She clutched Susan's hand.
They were just leaving the room when Jessie called them back.
"We are all going to pray that God may spare her," said Jessie. "There are to be prayers at midnight in the chapel. Any girl who likes to come will be welcome. Miss Peacock will be there, and she has asked Mr. Dalzell to come and pray with us."
"I don't think I'd care to go," said Susan; "that sort of thing frightens me very much."
Jessie said no more, and as Susan and Maud stole upstairs they saw other girls standing about in knots.
"Did you hear about the prayers in the chapel?" asked one.
"No; not for all the world," said Susan. "It would terrify me into my grave."
She went upstairs, and Maud followed her. When they reached Susan's room Susan turned the key in the lock.
"Now then, thank goodness we're safe!" she said. "We'll get into bed and cover our heads up with the bedclothes, and pray that we may sleep all night. I'm horribly frightened. Aren't you, Maudie?"
"I think I'm more sorry than frightened," said Maud. "I wish we hadn't been so dreadful to her."
"Maud," said Susan, raising her voice to a pitch of agony, "you dare talk of that to-night? Why, it will drive me mad."
"But why did we do it, Susan? But for that she wouldn't be so ill."
"I don't believe you. Her illness has nothing to do with us. Oh, do let us get into bed! It is so dreadful to be up when _that_ may be coming into the house."
"Death, you mean?" said Maud. "I never saw death."
"I did," said Susan, "when my mother died. But that was a long time ago; I can scarcely remember it."
"I don't want to see anyone who is dead," said Maud.
"Of course, you needn't see her--I mean if she does die. I wish father would send for us both. I have a good mind to write to him to-morrow. This is horrible; it makes me forget even that dreadful Wednesday. Thank goodness, Florence did get that note! But we won't worry about that now. Isn't it a comfort that the precious immaculate Star should have put her foot in it? She did, didn't she, when she went deliberately and broke Miss Peacock's command--and just when Miss Peacock was in such trouble?"