re for him?"

"There is so little to be done," he said. "Believe me, I have tried
every means in my power, but you know my resources here are so limited,
and in those surroundings--if I had been here a week earlier, I might
have done something; but as things are----"

"Oh, I know--I know you have done all you could!" She feared her words
had sounded ungracious. "Only--Bruce is so young--he has never been ill
before----"

"Ah, yes, but everything has been against him--the climate for one
thing--and of course the forced removal was about the last thing he
should have had to endure." Anstice longed to comfort her as she stood
before him, looking oddly young and wistful in her distress, but honesty
forbade him to utter words of hope, knowing as he did what might well
take place during the coming night.

"You think he will die--to-night?" Her eyes, tearless as they were,
demanded the truth; and after a secondary hesitation Anstice replied
candidly:

"I am very much afraid he may." He turned aside when he had spoken, that
he might not see her face; and for a long moment there was a silence
between them which Anstice, for one, could not have broken.

Then Iris sighed very faintly.

"If that is so, you--you won't leave us, will you? I think--I could bear
it better if you were here."

Anstice's vehement promise to stay with her was suddenly cut short as he
remembered the venture which was planned for the early hours of the
coming night; and Iris' quick wits showed her that some project was
afoot which would prevent him comforting her by his constant presence.
Yet so sore was her need of him, so ardently did she desire the solace
which he alone could bring her, that she was moved to a wistful entreaty
that was strangely unlike herself.

"Dr. Anstice, you--you will stay? If--if anything happens to Bruce, I
shall be so--so lonely----"

Never had Anstice so rebelled against the fate which had given her to
another man as in this moment when she stood before him, her face pale
with dread, her wide eyes filled with something not unlike absolute
terror as she faced the coming shadow which was to engulf her life. He
would have given the world to have the right to take her in his arms, to
kiss the colour back to those white cheeks, the security to the
quivering mouth. This was the first favour she had ever asked at his
hands, the first time she had thrown herself, as it were, on his mercy;
and he must refuse her even the meag