I am certain that if I do she
will approve--certain as that I am alive."

"I won't rob Francie," said Lionel, with a little moan of weariness or
pain.

"You can't rob her of what she hasn't got," Mangan said, promptly. "I
know this, that if Francie knew you were in these straits and worrying
about it, she would instantly come up and offer you her own little
money--which is not a very large fortune, as I understand; and I also
know that you would refuse it."

"A dose of prussic acid first," Lionel murmured, to himself.

"Prussic acid!--Bosh!" said Maurice. "What is the use of talking
rubbish! Well, I'm not going to let you talk at all. I'm going to read
you the news out of the evening papers until you go to sleep."

When Dr. Ballardyce called next morning, he found that the fever had
gained apace; all the symptoms were aggravated--the temperature, in
especial, had seriously increased. The sick man lay drowsily
indifferent, now and again moaning slightly; but sometimes he would
waken up, and then there was a curiously anxious and restless look in
his eyes. The nurse said she was afraid he had not been asleep at all,
though occasionally he had appeared to be asleep. When the doctor left
again, she was sent to bed, and Maurice Mangan took her place in the
sitting-room.

That was an extraordinary Sunday, long to be remembered. Anything more
hopelessly dismal than the outlook from those Piccadilly windows it was
impossible to imagine. The gale of Friday had blown itself out in rain;
and that had been followed by stagnant weather and a continuous drizzle;
so that the trees in the Green Park opposite looked like black phantoms
in the vague gray mist; while everything seemed wet and clammy and cold.
Maurice paced up and down the room, his feet shod in noiseless slippers;
or he gazed out on that melancholy spectacle until he thought of
suicide; or again he would go into the adjoining apartment, to see how
his friend was getting on or whether he wanted anything. But as the day
wore on, matters became a little brisker; for there were numerous
callers, and some of them waited to have a special message sent down to
them; while others, knowing Mangan, and learning that he was in charge
of the invalid, came up to have a word with himself. Baskets of flowers
began to arrive, too; and these, of course, must have come from private
conservatories. No one was allowed to enter the sick-room; but Maurice
carried thither the news of al