"Don't cry, dear!" she murmured fondly.
"It is nothing to me.

A little sooner--a little later! If you had suffered what I have suffered you would say as I do, 'Dear God, let it be soon!' There! Put your head on my shoulder, dear child! See if you can get a little sleep! You have cared for me long enough.

Now I am going to care for you." With loving words she soothed her, calming her as though she had been a child in nightmare terror, and gradually a certain peace began to still the horror in Dinah's soul.

An unmistakable drowsiness was stealing over her, a merciful lethargy lulling the sensibilities that had been so acutely tried.

Her weakness was merging into a sense of almost blissful repose.