ments her tossing form lay quiet. Jacqueline buried her face in her hands and wept with sheer bitterness and despair.
“Oh, Vrouw Voorhaas, Vrouw Voorhaas!—now I know what doth ail thee!” she sobbed aloud. “Thou hast starved thyself for our sakes, thou didst deceive us into thinking thou wast satisfied with a little, and now thou art reaping the results of thy sacrifice!” The realization that this faithful servant had brought herself to this pass by her own self-denial, occupied Jacqueline’s mind to the exclusion of every other thought. “How wicked and ungrateful I have been,” she blamed herself, “going out to nurse other people, when starvation and illness lay waiting right at my own door, and I never guessed! Oh, if Gysbert were only here!”
Then the necessity for doing something, and that speedily, forced itself upon her. Deciding that she could leave the sick woman more easily now than later, she ran out at once to find Dr. de Witt. He accompanied
