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worried."
    Her low voice was as lovely as the rest of her. Though her dark, high-necked dress had a Quaker's simplicity, her manner and speech would not have been out of place in a London drawing room. "Would you like something to drink?"
    Madeline nodded, conscious of the dryness of her throat. The woman raised her and held a mug of tea to her lips. Its honey-sweetened taste was soothing. After several sips, Madeline whispered, "Thank you, that is much better."
    The young woman laid her back on the pillows and set the glass down. Anticipating Madeline's questions, she said, "My name is Diana Lindsay and you're at High Tor Cottage, near Cleveden. You've been feverish for three days."
    "The last thing I remember was seeing a light through the snow and trying to find it. Was that you?"
    Diana nodded. "I was out milking. When I left the barn, I heard you call out and went to investigate."
    It was hard to imagine such a lovely creature milking cows, but the hand on Madeline's forehead did not have the silky softness of a woman unused to manual labor. "Surely you don't live alone here?"
    "No, my son and housekeeper live here also."
    Unusual to find a household in this remote place without a man, but Madeline was too tired even for curiosity. She whispered, "My name is Madeline Gainford and I grew up in Cleveden. I had come back..."
    Her voice trailed off, lacking the strength to explain why she had been out in the storm.
    Diana's lovely face shadowed with concern. "Hush now, and rest. There will be time to talk later."
    Obediently Madeline closed her eyes and drifted off again. This time there were no troubling dreams.
    * * *
    It was morning before the patient woke again. Diana entered the room to find Madeline Gainford just opening her eyes. At this time of day sunshine flooded the room with warmth and the whitewashed walls glowed. The older woman's gaze scanned the oak chest and wardrobe, the oval hooked rug and pretty watercolors of flowers. Though it must seem humble after what she was accustomed to, her face showed no disdain.
    Diana said, "Would you like something to eat?" At her visitor's nod, she went to the kitchen and returned with a steaming bowl of richly flavored cream soup, thick with small pieces of chicken and leek. After propping her patient up on the pillows, Diana spoonfed her like an infant.
    When the bowl was empty, Madeline said, "Thank you, Mrs. Lindsay. You are very kind." Her voice was stronger now and there was healthy color in her face. Edith had braided the dark hair and dressed her in a white flannel nightgown. Her large brown eyes were calm, though there was sadness in their depths. "I don't know how to thank you. I would have died in the storm."
    "Much better this way," Diana said with a smile. "It would have been unnerving to find your body during the spring thaw."
    That drew a smile in response. Diana had been right that the visitor had been a beauty in her youth; when she smiled, she was still beautiful. Madeline's dark eyes met her hostess's gaze squarely. "If you can get a wagon from the village, I will leave. I shouldn't be here." She sighed and her gaze shifted away. "I never wanted to be a burden to anyone."
    "The roads won't be passable for some time, so there is no need to rush. Don't worry about being a burden. You're the most interesting event here in years." Diana hesitated before succumbing to curiosity. "Why were you lost in the storm?"
    Madeline's eyes closed and she looked sad and tired. Her voice almost a whisper, she said, "I wasn't lost. I wanted to die." When the dark brown eyes opened, she gazed past Diana. "Then I decided it was too soon... I'm not ready yet."
    She added in a flat voice, "I am dying, you see. I came back to Cleveden to be with my family, but my sister wouldn't let me into the house." She pressed her hand to her breast with the absentness of habitual gesture before finishing less steadily, "What I have is not infectious. Your household is in no danger from