"Dear Miss Reynolds, you must go now. I must not keep you any longer," she said, at length.

"My child, I shall not leave you while you need me," her teacher returned, and, going to her side, she tenderly smoothed back the dark hair from her forehead.

"I am much easier, so do not mind leaving me. You will be missed, and some one will be coming for you; just let me stay here for a while and be sure not to tell anyone where I am, or why I am among the missing," Katherine pleaded, for she did not wish Dr. Stanley to learn her whereabouts, knowing he would seek her and insist upon dressing her burns.

"I will be very discreet; but I am going to keep you with me all night," her teacher replied. "Now, if you can bear it, I will help you off with your clothes. You shall have one of my night-robes and go straight to bed."

With fine tact she had refrained from asking a single question; but the suffering face, the pretty dress all burned and discolored, the handkerchief wrapped about her hand, told her something of what had occurred, and she could wait until later for details.

She dexterously a.s.sisted her to undress; but while doing so the handkerchief was displaced and dropped to the floor and she had to shut her lips resolutely to repress the cry of pity that almost escaped her as she saw what it had covered. The next instant she was mentally repeating the "scientific statement of being,"

[Footnote: "Science and Health," page 468.] while she quietly replaced the square of linen and pinned it to keep it in place.

Then, with a grateful smile and a sigh of content, Katherine slipped into bed and sank upon her pillow.

"Now go, please," she begged again, "and find out, if you can, how Dorothy is."

"No, Kathie, I am not going just yet," was the decided reply, though there was a startled heart-bound at the girl's reference to Dorothy. She asked no questions, however, but, going back to her desk, continued her reading as before.

In about fifteen minutes she glanced towards the bed and saw by her regular breathing that Katherine had fallen asleep. She bowed her head upon her book for a moment, and when she lifted it again there were tears on her cheeks, and in her eyes "a light that was ne'er on sea or land."

Turning the gas low, she slipped softly out of the room and went downstairs to join the gay company who were all unconscious of what had been going on above.

Five minutes later Dr. Stanley came to her, his fine face overcast and anxious.

"Miss Reynolds, can you give me any information regarding Miss Minturn?" he inquired, adding: "I have been looking for her for nearly an hour, and no one seems to know where she is. I suppose you have heard about the accident?"

"An accident?" repeated the lady, inquiringly. "Yes," and he proceeded to give a brief account of the narrow escape in the lecture hall. "I told Miss Minturn to go to her room," he continued, "and I would come to her as soon as I had ascertained if all was well with Dorothy. The child is all right; she was simply frightened and lost consciousness for a few moments. But Miss Minturn was badly burned, on her hand and arm, and her beautiful dress is a wreck. Mrs. Seabrook and I have been to her room; no one was there, nor can anyone give us a clew to her whereabouts," and the gentleman looked really distressed as he concluded.

Miss Reynolds had been doing some practical thinking while he was talking, and now observed:

"Well, Dr. Stanley, to relieve your anxiety, I will tell you that she is in my room, where she will remain all night. But I have disobeyed her injunction to tell no one where she is. Fortunately, I met her just as she was leaving the lecture hall, and she begged shelter with me. I have but just left her."

"But she must have attention--her burns must be dressed," said the physician, in a tone of professional authority.

"That will not be necessary, for she is asleep and resting quietly."

"Asleep! impossible!" interposed the man, emphatically; "that is, unless she has taken a powerful opiate."

"She has had nothing of the kind," was the quiet answer.

"Then I repeat--it would be impossible for her to sleep," Dr.

Stanley a.s.serted, with a note of impatience in his tone. "Why, only an hour has elapsed since the accident, and, with those burns, it would be many hours before she could get any rest or relief without an opiate. I know," he added, flushing, "she is a Christian Scientist, but I can't quite swallow such a miracle as that."

"Nevertheless, my friend, the dear girl, is sleeping peacefully-- or was, ten minutes ago," the lady smilingly returned.

"Did she put anything on those burns?"

"Nothing."

"Do you believe she 'demonstrated,' as they express it, over the pain?"

"I know," she softly replied.

"Ah!"--with a start--"are you--"

Again she smiled as she interposed:

"I must not say too much about that just now. I will say this, however: I have seen and learned enough to make me wish to know more, for Katherine Minturn is an earnest, honest exponent of her religion. I am very fond of her--she is one of the loveliest girls I have ever known."

"I can heartily agree with you on that point," replied Phillip Stanley, gravely. "But I was hoping that I could be of service to her, for we owe her much for her wonderful presence of mind and practical common sense. But for that Dorothy would have been badly burned and a great sufferer at this moment, instead of having gone to bed the happiest girl in the building and full of grat.i.tude to Miss Minturn for giving her so much pleasure. Will you say to her, if there is any way I can serve her, I shall be only too glad of the opportunity?"

"Indeed I will, and I shall slip away very soon and go back to her, although I am sure she does not really need me. I am glad for her sake, however, that tomorrow will be Sat.u.r.day."

"May I tell my sister what you have told me?" Dr. Stanley inquired. "I know it would greatly relieve her mind, for she is much disturbed because Miss Minturn cannot be found."

"Yes; I am sure Kathie would be willing, under the circ.u.mstances.

I know her only fear was that she might be found before her work was done," Miss Reynolds said, after considering a moment. "I think," she added, "she would prefer not to have Dorothy told anything, except, perhaps, that her dress was injured."

"Yes; it would mar her pleasure," her companion observed; "in fact, we have said nothing about the contretemps to anyone but the faculty as yet, fearing it might spoil the evening for many. We cannot be too thankful that it was no worse; if it had occurred before that last tableau was over, there is no telling how serious it might have been, with so many thin dresses and all those paper flowers," he concluded, gravely, then bowed himself away.

After making the round of the room, Miss Reynolds sought Sadie and told her that as Katherine was not feeling quite herself, she would spend the night with her; then she stole away and went back to her charge.

Katherine aroused when she entered the room, but showed no signs of present suffering.

"How is Dorothy?" she questioned, eagerly.

"She was not harmed in the least, and 'went to bed the happiest girl in the building,' so I was told."

Katherine heaved a sigh of relief.

She asked for a gla.s.s of water and drank thirstily when it was brought to her.

"Can I do anything more for you, Kathie?" her friend inquired.

The girl's eyes wandered to the books on her desk.

"Shall I read?--what?"

"The twenty-third psalm, please."

Miss Reynolds found and read it as given and interpreted in "Science and Health": "Divine Love is my Shepherd; I shall not want. Love maketh me to lie down in green pastures; Love leadeth me beside still waters;" [Footnote: "Science and Health," page 16.] and so on to the end.

Then she turned to her own marker and read for herself a while.

The room was very quiet, for the revelers below were so far away they could not be heard. Only a strain of music from the orchestra was now and then wafted on a gentle breeze to them through an open window.

Suddenly a deep sigh from the bed fell upon the reader's ear. She started and turned toward her charge.

"'Love'--'still waters,'" murmured Katherine, then turned like a tired child on her pillow and was again locked in slumber.