Chapter XVII. Shall Be Given

For one long week of seven long days and seven long nights Annette fought out her gallant fight for life, fought and won. Throughout the week at her side Adrien waited day and night, except for a few hours snatched for rest, when Patricia took her place, for there was not a nurse to be had in all that time and Patricia begged for the privilege of sharing her vigil with her.

Every day and in the darkest days all day long, it seemed to Adrien, McNish haunted the Maitland home--for he had abandoned all pretence of work--his gaunt, grey face and hollow eyes imploring a word of hope.

But it was chiefly to Jack throughout that week that Adrien's heart went out in compassionate pity, for in his face there dwelt a misery so complete, so voiceless that no comfort of hers appeared to be able to bring relief. Often through those days did Annette ask to see him, but the old doctor was relentless. There must be absolute quiet and utter absence of all excitement. No visitors were to be permitted, especially no men visitors.

But the day came when the ban was lifted and with smiling face, Adrien came for Jack.

"You have been such a good boy," she cried gaily, "that I am going to give you a great treat. You are to come in with me."

With face all alight Jack followed her into the sick room.

"Here he is, Annette," cried Adrien. "Now, remember, no fussing, no excitement, and just one quarter of an hour--or perhaps a little longer," she added.

For a moment or two Jack stood looking at the girl lying upon the bed.

"Oh, Annette, my dear, dear girl," he cried in a breaking voice as he knelt down by her side and took her hand in his.

So much reached Adrien's ears as she closed the door and passed to her room with step weary and lifeless.

"Why, Adrien," cried her sister, who was waiting to relieve her, "you are like a ghost! You poor dear. You are horribly done out."

"I believe I am, Patricia," said Adrien. "I believe I shall rest awhile." She lay down on the bed, her face turned toward the wall, and so remained till Patricia went softly away, leaving her, as she thought, to sleep.

Downstairs Patricia found Victor Forsythe awaiting her.

"Poor Adrien is really used up," she said. "She has a deathly look in her face. Just the same look as she had that night of the hockey match. Do you remember?"

"The night of the hockey dance? Do I remember? A ghastly night--a horrid night--a night of unspeakable wretchedness."

As Vic was speaking, Patricia kept her eyes steadily upon him with a pondering, puzzled look.

"What is it, Patricia? I know you want to ask me something. Is it about that night?"

"I wonder if you would really mind very much, Vic, if I asked