t?"

"You've not come with the intention of seeing him, have you?" the doctor
asked, glancing up with some curiosity at the grey face and overhanging
eyebrows of the merchant.

"Yes, I am going up to him now."

"It is a most virulent case of typhoid. He may die in an hour or he may
live until nightfall, but nothing can save him. He will hardly
recognize you, I fear, and you can do him no good. It is most
infectious, and you are incurring a needless danger. I should strongly
recommend you not to go."

"Why, you've only just come down from him yourself, doctor."

"Ah, I'm there in the way of duty."

"So am I," said the visitor decisively, and passing up the stone steps
of the entrance strode into the hall. There was a large sitting-room
upon the ground floor, through the open door of which the visitor saw a
sight which arrested him for a moment. A young girl was sitting in a
recess near the window, with her lithe, supple figure bent forward, and
her hands clasped at the back of her head, while her elbows rested upon
a small table in front of her. Her superb brown hair fell in a thick
wave on either side over her white round arms, and the graceful curve of
her beautiful neck might have furnished a sculptor with a study for a
mourning Madonna. The doctor had just broken his sad tidings to her,
and she was still in the first paroxysm of her grief--a grief too acute,
as was evident even to the unsentimental mind of the merchant, to allow
of any attempt at consolation. A greyhound appeared to think
differently, for he had placed his fore-paws upon his young mistress's
lap, and was attempting to thrust his lean muzzle between her arms and
to lick her face in token of canine sympathy. The merchant paused
irresolutely for a moment, and then ascending the broad staircase he
pushed open the door of Harston's room and entered.

The blinds were drawn down and the chamber was very dark. A pungent
whiff of disinfectants issued from it, mingled with the dank, heavy
smell of disease. The bed was in a far corner. Without seeing him,
Girdlestone could hear the fast laboured breathing of the invalid.
A trimly dressed nurse who had been sitting by the bedside rose, and,
recognizing the visitor, whispered a few words to him and left the room.
He pulled the cord of the Venetian blind so as to admit a few rays of
daylight. The great chamber looked dreary and bare, as carpet and
hangings had been removed to lessen the chanc