e's door, but burst in upon him headlong. The room was in
total darkness, but he awoke instantly.

"Hullo! What is it? That you, Muriel?"

"Oh, Blake!" she gasped. "The child's ill. We want the doctor."

He was up in a moment. She heard him groping for matches, but he only
succeeded in knocking something over.

"Can't you find them?" she asked. "Wait! I'll get you a light."

She ran back to her own room and fetched a candle. Her hands were
shaking so that she could scarcely light it. Returning, she found
Grange putting on his clothes in the darkness. He was fully as
flurried as she.

As she set down the candle there arose a sudden awful sound in Daisy's
room.

Muriel stood still. "Oh, what is that?"

Grange paused in the act of dragging on his coat. "It's that damned
_ayah_," he said savagely.

And in a second Muriel understood. Daisy's _ayah_ was wailing for the
dead.

She put her hands over her ears. The dreadful cry seemed to pierce
right through to her very soul. Then she remembered Daisy, and turned
to go to her.

Out in the passage she met the white-faced English servants huddling
together and whispering. One of them was sobbing hysterically. She
passed them swiftly by.

Back in Daisy's room she found the _ayah_ crouched on the floor, and
rocking herself to and fro while she beat her breast and wailed. The
door that led into the nursery was closed.

Muriel advanced fiercely upon the woman. She almost felt as if
she could have choked her. She seized her by the shoulders without
ceremony. The _ayah_ ceased her wailing for a moment, then recommenced
in a lower key. Muriel pulled her to her feet, half-dragged, half-led
her to her own room, thrust her within, and locked the door upon her.
Then she returned to Daisy.

She found her sunk in a rocking-chair before the waning fire, softly
swaying to and fro with the baby on her breast. She looked at Muriel
entering, with a set, still face.

"Has Blake gone?" she asked, still in that dry, powerless whisper.

Muriel moved to her side, and knelt down. "He is just going," she
began to say, but the words froze on her lips.

She remained motionless for a long second, gazing at the tiny, waxen
face on Daisy's breast. And for that second her heart stood still; for
she knew that the baby was dead.

From the closed room across the passage came the muffled sound of the
_ayah's_ wailing. Daisy made a slight impatient movement.

"Stir the fire," she whispered.