Isabel stirred again as one who moves in restless slumber. "We must scale
the peaks of Paradise to reach it," she said.

"Are you awake, dearest?" asked Dinah very tenderly.

Isabel's head was sunk against her shoulder. She moved it, slightly
raised it. "Yes, I am awake," she said. "I am watching for the dawn."

"It won't come yet," whispered Dinah tremulously. "It's a long, long way
off."

Isabel moved a little more, feeling for Dinah in the darkness. "Are you
frightened, little one?" she said. "Don't be frightened!"

Dinah swallowed down a sob. "It is so dark," she murmured through
chattering teeth. "And so, so cold."

"You are cold, dear heart?" Isabel sat up suddenly. "Why should you be
cold?" she said. "The darkness is nothing to those who are used to it. I
have lived in outer darkness for seven weary years. But now--now I think
the day is drawing near at last."

With an energy that astounded Dinah she got upon her knees and by her
movements she realized, albeit too late, that she was divesting herself
of the long purple coat.

With all her strength she sought to frustrate her, but her strength had
become very feebleness; and when, despite resistance, Isabel wrapped her
round in the garment she had discarded, her resistance was too puny to