r Lucy, if nothing else did. I
know, and you know, and the other doctor who attended her knows, that
Mrs. Westenra had disease of the heart, and we can certify that she
died of it. Let us fill up the certificate at once, and I shall take
it myself to the registrar and go on to the undertaker."

"Good, oh my friend John! Well thought of! Truly Miss Lucy, if she
be sad in the foes that beset her, is at least happy in the friends
that love her. One, two, three, all open their veins for her, besides
one old man. Ah, yes, I know, friend John. I am not blind! I love
you all the more for it! Now go."

In the hall I met Quincey Morris, with a telegram for Arthur telling
him that Mrs. Westenra was dead, that Lucy also had been ill, but was
now going on better, and that Van Helsing and I were with her. I told
him where I was going, and he hurried me out, but as I was going said,

"When you come back, Jack, may I have two words with you all to
ourselves?" I nodded in reply and went out. I found no difficulty
about the registration, and arranged with the local undertaker to come
up in the evening to measure for the coffin and to make arrangements.

When I got back Quincey was waiting for me. I told him I would see
him as soon as I knew about Lucy, and went up to her room. She was
still sleeping, and the Professor seemingly had not moved from his
seat at her side. From his putting his finger to his lips, I gathered
that he expected her to wake before long and was afraid of
fore-stalling nature. So I went down to Quincey and took him into the
breakfast room, where the blinds were not drawn down, and which was a
little more cheerful, or rather less cheerless, than the other rooms.

When we were alone, he said to me, "Jack Seward, I don't want to shove
myself in anywhere where I've no right to be, but this is no ordinary
case. You know I loved that girl and wanted to marry her, but
although that's all past and gone, I can't help feeling anxious about
her all the same. What is it that's wrong with her? The Dutchman,
and a fine old fellow he is, I can see that, said that time you two
came into the room, that you must have another transfusion of blood,
and that both you and he were exhausted. Now I know well that you
medical men speak in camera, and that a man must not expect to know
what they consult about in private. But this is no common matter, and
whatever it is, I have done my part. Is not that so?"

"Tha