help, the best advice in the world.' The Doctor raised his hand.

'Nothing can be done as yet. I have only fear.'

'Then let us be ready in case your fears should be justified! Who are
the best men in London to help in such a case?' The Doctor mentioned two
names; and within a few minutes a mounted messenger was galloping to
Norcester, the nearest telegraph centre. The messenger was to arrange
for a special train if necessary. Shortly afterwards the Doctor went
again to see his patient. After a long absence he came back, pale and
agitated. Norman felt his heart sink when he saw him; a groan broke from
him as the Doctor spoke:

'She is much worse! I am in great fear that she may pass away before the
morning!' The Squire's strong voice was clouded, with a hoarse veil as
he asked:

'May I see her?'

'Not yet; at present she is sleeping. She may wake strengthened; in
which case you may see her. But if not--'

'If not?'--the voice was not like his own.

'Then I shall send for you at once!' The Doctor returned to his vigil.
The Squire, left alone, sank on his knees, his face in his hands; his
great shoulders shook with the intensity of his grief.

An hour or more passed before he heard hurried steps. He sprang to the
door:

'Well?'

'You had better come now.'

'Is she better?'

'Alas! no. I fear her minutes are numbered. School yourself, my dear
old friend! God will help you in this bitter hour. All you can do now
is to make her last moments happy.'

'I know! I know!' he answered in a voice so calm that his companion
wondered.

When they came into the room Margaret was dozing. When her eyes opened
and she found her husband beside her bed there spread over her face a
glad look; which, alas! soon changed to one of pain. She motioned to him
to bend down. He knelt and put his head beside her on the pillow; his
arms went tenderly round her as though by his iron devotion and strength
he would shield her from all harm. Her voice came very low and in broken
gasps; she was summoning all her strength that she might speak:

'My dear, dear husband, I am so sad at leaving you! You have made me so
happy, and I love you so! Forgive me, dear, for the pain I know you will
suffer when I am gone! And oh, Stephen, I know you will cherish our
little one--yours and mine--when I am gone. She will have no mother; you
will have to be father and mother too.'

'I will hold her in my very heart's core, my