She opened it and admitted Rowland.

He went to the bed, and began to whisper gently of the hope of salvation to those who believe.

Gladys opened her eyes, and caught the hand extended to her.
'More--more,' she murmured.

'Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief.' Rowland read the Office for the Sick, from the prayer book, and she responded inwardly, her lips moving.

Miss Gwynne came to the bed, and kneeling down, joined in the prayers.
Again Rowland spoke soothingly to the girl of the need of looking to Christ, the Saviour, alone in the hour of her extremity; and she murmured, 'He is my rock and my fortress.' 'Do you trust wholly in Him ?' 'In whom else should I trust?
All human friends are gone.' 'Not all, you have friends around you.' 'Have I?
Thank you, sir?
God bless you.' 'I will come again and read to you when you are able to bear it.' Rowland said this and withdrew, without speaking again to Miss Gwynne, or even bowing as he left the room.
'He certainly reads most impressively,' thought Miss Gwynne; 'I could scarcely believe he was not English born and bred; but still he is quite a Goth in manners, and I am sure he thinks no one in the country so clever as himself.' Rowland met Netta at the foot of the stairs.
'Netta, I really am ashamed to think that you can allow Miss Gwynne to wait upon that girl in your own house.' 'I'm sure, Rowland, Miss Gwynne needn't do it if she didn't choose.