r's
prosy discourses in church. Face to face with the possibility of
losing him, all her conventionality collapsed. The boy had been
everything in the world to her, and now he was going elsewhere.

The house was a very mournful place just then, and the servants moved
noiselessly about as though in the presence of some strange mystery.
The only person in it who seemed really happy was Austin himself. A
great London surgeon came to see him once, and then there was talk of
hiring a trained nurse. But Austin combatted this project with all the
vigour at his command, protesting that trained nurses always scented
themselves with chloroform and put him in mind of a hospital; he
really could not have one in the room. Some assistance, however, was
necessary, for the disease was making such rapid progress that he
could no longer turn himself in bed; and Austin, recognising the fact,
insisted that Lubin and no other should tend him. So Lubin, tearfully
overjoyed at the distinction, exchanged the garden for the
sick-chamber, into which, as Austin said, he seemed to bring the very
scent of grass and flowers; and there he passed his time, day after
day, raising the helpless boy in his strong arms, shifting his
position, anticipating his slightest wish, and even sleeping in a low
truckle-bed in a corner of the room at night.

Sometimes Austin would lie, silent and motionless, for hours, with a
perfectly calm and happy look upon his face. This was when the pain
relaxed its grip upon him. At other times he would talk almost
incessantly, apparently holding a conversation with people whom Lubin
could not see. One would have thought that someone very dear to him
had come to pay him a visit, and that he and this mysterious someone
were deeply attached to each other, so bright and playful were the
smiles that rippled upon his lips. He spoke in a low, rapid undertone,
so that Lubin could only catch a word or two here and there; then
there would be a pause, as though to allow for some unheard reply, to
which Austin appeared to be listening intently; and then off he would
go again as fast as ever. His eyes had a wistful, far-off look in
them, and every now and then he seemed puzzled at Lubin's presence,
not being quite able to reconcile the actual surroundings of the
sick-room with those other scenes that were now dawning upon his
sight, scenes in which Lubin had no place. There was a little
confusion in his mind in consequence; but as the da