that strange sense of unreality
in moments of crisis, when one hears one's own voice saying courteous
things, without any volition of one's own. The big doctor looked at him
kindly. "It is all quite simple and straightforward!" he said. "You
must not let yourself be anxious; these times pass by and one wonders
afterwards how one could have been so much afraid."

But the hours brought no relief; the doctors stayed long in the house;
something had occurred, Howard knew not what, did not dare to
conjecture. The silence, the beauty of the whole scene, was
insupportably horrible to him. He walked up and down in the afternoon,
gazing at Maud's windows--once a nurse came to the window and opened it
a little. He went back at last into the house; the doctors were there,
talking in low tones to Mrs. Graves. "I will be back first thing in the
morning," said one; the worst, then, had not happened. But as he
appeared a look of inquiry passed between them and Mrs. Graves. She
beckoned to him.

"She is very ill," she said; "it is over, and she has survived; but the
child is dead."

Howard stood blankly staring at the group. "I don't understand," he
said; "the child is dead--yes, but what about Maud?"

The doctor came up to him. "It was sudden," he said; "she had an
attack--we had anticipated it--the child was born dead; but there is
every reason to believe that she will recover; it has been a great
shock, but she is young and strong, and she is full of pluck--you need
not be anxious at present; there is no imminent danger." Then he added,
"Mr. Kennedy, get some rest yourself; she may need you, and you must
not be useless: I tell you, the first danger is over and will not
recur; you must just force yourself to eat--try to sleep."

"Sleep?" said Howard with a wan smile, "yes, if you could tell me how
to do that!"

The doctors departed; Howard went off with Mrs. Graves. She made him
sit down, she told him a few details; then she said, "Dearest boy, it's
no use wasting words or pity just now--you know what I feel; I would
tell you plainly if I feared the worst. I do NOT fear it, and now let
me exercise my art on you, for I am sure I can help you a little. One
must not play with these things, but this is in earnest."

She came and sate down beside him, and stroked his hair, his brow; she
said, "Just try, if you can, to cast everything out of your mind; relax
your limbs, be entirely passive; and don't listen to what I say--just
le