doctor came to Jimmy's rescue.

"Has your mother ever had similar attacks to this one, Miss Wyatt?" he
asked.

Christine considered.

"She hasn't been very well lately. She's complained of being tired
several times, and once she said she had a pain in her side; but----"
She broke off; she looked breathlessly into his face. Suddenly she
caught her breath hard, clutching at Jimmy Challoner's arm.

"Jimmy," she said shrilly.

Jimmy put his arm round her; his voice was all broken when he spoke.

"She's ill, Christine--very ill. Oh, my dear----" He could not go on;
he was very boyish still in many ways, and he felt more like breaking
down and weeping with her than trying to comfort her and help her
through the ordeal she had got to face.

But Christine knew in a minute. She pushed him away; she stood with
hands clasped together, staring before her through the half-closed door
with wide, tragic eyes.

"Mother," she said uncertainly; and then again, "Mother!" And now
there was a wild sort of cry in her voice.

"Christine," said Jimmy huskily. He caught her hand; he tried to hold
her back, but she broke away from him, staggered a few steps, and fell
before either of the men could save her.

CHAPTER IX

MOTHERLESS

Sangster was writing letters in his rooms in the unfashionable part of
Bloomsbury when Jimmy's urgent message reached him. It was brought by
one of the hotel servants, who waited at the door, yawning and
indifferent, while Sangster read the hastily scrawled lines:

For God's sake come at once. Mrs. Wyatt died suddenly this afternoon,
and there is no one to see to anything but me.

Dead! Sangster could not believe it. He had admired Mrs. Wyatt
tremendously that night when they all went to the theatre together; she
had seemed so full of life, so young to have a grown-up daughter like
Christine. Oh, surely there must be some mistake.

"I'll come at once," he said. He crushed Jimmy's note into his pocket
and went back for his hat. He called a taxi, and took the man from the
hotel back with him; he asked him a few questions, but the man was
uncommunicative, and apparently not very interested. Yes, the lady was
dead right enough, so he had been told, he admitted. The
gentleman--Mr. Challoner--seemed in a great way about it.

Sangster was terribly shocked. He had quite forgotten the manner of
his parting with Jimmy; he was only too willing and anxious to help him
in any way po