d to their sister through the stormy night
as quickly as possible, and he promised to think of what could be done
for the invalid--with the result that he lost a night's sleep in
calculating what sum he might spare. On the morrow came the news he had
expected; the doctor suggested Brompton Hospital, if admission could be
obtained; home treatment at this time of the year, and in the patient's
circumstances, was not likely to be of any good. Warburton took the
matter in hand, went about making inquiries, found that there must
necessarily be delay. Right or wrong, he put his hand in his pocket,
and Mrs. Hopper was enabled to nurse her sister in a way otherwise
impossible. He visited the sick-room, and for half an hour managed to
talk as of old, in the note of gallant sympathy and encouragement. Let
there be no stint of fire, of food, of anything the doctor might
advise. Meanwhile, he would ask about other hospitals--do everything in
his power. As indeed he did, with the result that in a fortnight's
time, the sufferer was admitted to an institution to which, for the
nonce, Warburton had become a subscriber.

He saw her doctor. "Not much chance, I'm afraid. Of course, if she were
able to change climate--that kind of thing. But, under the
circumstances--"

And through a whole Sunday morning Will paced about his little
sitting-room, not caring to go forth, nor caring to read, caring for
nothing at all in a world so full of needless misery. "Of course, if
she were able to change climate--" Yes, the accident of possessing
money; a life to depend upon that! In another station--though, as
likely as not, with no moral superiority to justify the privilege--the
sick woman would be guarded, soothed, fortified by every expedient of
science, every resource of humanity. Chance to be poor, and not only
must you die when you need not, but must die with the minimum of
comfort, the extreme of bodily and mental distress. This commonplace
struck so forcibly upon Will's imagination, that it was as a new
discovery to him. He stood amazed, bewildered--as men of any thinking
power are wont to do when experience makes real to them the truisms of
life. A few coins, or pieces of printed paper to signify all that! An
explosion of angry laughter broke the mood.

Pacing, pacing, back and fro in the little room, for hour after hour,
till his head whirled, and his legs ached. Out of doors there was
fitfully glinting sunshine upon the wet roofs; a pale