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The messenger
was to arrange for a special train if necessary. Shortly afterwards
the Doctor went again to see his patient. After a long absence he
came back, pale and agitated. Norman felt his heart sink when he saw
him; a groan broke from him as the Doctor spoke:
'She is much worse! I am in great fear that she may pass away before
the morning!' The Squire's strong voice was clouded, with a hoarse
veil as he asked:
'May I see her?'
'Not yet; at present she is sleeping. She may wake strengthened; in
which case you may see her. But if not--'
'If not?'--the voice was not like his own.
'Then I shall send for you at once!' The Doctor returned to his
vigil. The Squire, left alone, sank on his knees, his face in his
hands; his great shoulders shook with the intensity of his grief.
An hour or more passed before he heard hurried steps. He sprang to
the door:
'Well?'
'You had better come now.'
'Is she better?'
'Alas! no. I fear her minutes are numbered. School yourself, my
dear old friend! God will help you in this bitter hour.


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