Mary Gray by Katharine Tynan — Read

Mary Gray's loving, capable care and sympathy carried Nelly through the worst days of her trouble. There were times when Mary had to hold the girl's hands, to fight with all her might against the acute suffering which menaced for a time her sanity and her health. The horrors into which Nelly fell when she thought upon the things which happened in such wars as this with cruel and cunning savages, were the worst things to fight. There were hours in which all the fears of the world seemed to be let loose on the unhappy child, when it seemed impossible to vanquish those powers of darkness with one poor woman's love and prayers. During these days Mary Gray hardly left Nelly's side. Fortunately she had ceased to direct the Bureau, and another capable, much more common-place, young woman had taken up her task. The official appointment was on its way, but had not yet arrived. So she was free to devote herself to her friend.

The doctor whom Sir Denis called in could do little for the patient except prescribe sleeping draughts to be taken at need. He understood that the girl had had a shock. He suggested a change, but Nelly would not hear of that. She must stay on in London where the first news would come. So stay on they did, through the torrid heats of July, when the dust was in arid drifts on the Square green gardens and blew in through the open windows, powdering everything with its faint grey.