, there is
nothing wrong, only nurse forgot to ask you something, and as it was a
fine evening I said I would call."

"I am coming round later on. I am sorry you have had your walk for
nothing," returned Marcus. And then they went apart and talked
together for a few minutes. Then Marcus went back to his patient and
Greta joined Olivia, who was sitting on the oaken settee by the blazing
fire. She was tired out with the strain of the last two hours, and
felt in need of a little rest before she went in search of Alwyn.

"Sit down, Greta,", she whispered. "How strange you should have come
to this house! But then everything is strange to-day----" But here
she stopped confusedly, as she remembered Mr. Gaythorne's injunction.

"Why is it strange?" asked Greta, innocently. "There is someone
seriously ill here, is there not? But your servant did not tell me the
name. How pale and tired you look, Mrs. Luttrell! I suppose it is
some friend of yours who is ill?" She glanced at Olivia questioningly,
but she only nodded in answer.

"Yes; it was a sudden attack--I think it must have been a stroke. Oh,
Greta, what is it?"--for Miss Williams had suddenly risen from her seat
with a startled exclamation and was gazing with wide, frightened eyes
and parted lips into the shadowy corner behind her.

The next moment Robert Barton came forward into the firelight, with his
pale face and fair, dishevelled hair. He looked almost like a ghost of
himself, but Greta, with a little cry, held out her hand to him.

"Alwyn, it is you; but how you startled me! Why did you stand there in
that silent, ghostly fashion?" But as he only looked at her in a dazed
way, and made no answer, she turned to Olivia.

"Mrs. Luttrell," she said, piteously, "what does it all mean? Why does
he not speak to me, and we are such old friends? Is he ill? He looks
dreadful. I should hardly have known him--and yet--and yet--it must be
Alwyn."

"Yes, I am Alwyn," returned the young man, in a hollow voice. "But you
must not touch me, Greta. I am not worthy to take your hand. I have
killed my father!"

CHAPTER XV.

"THEY WERE BOTH TO BLAME."

"It befits a son to be dutiful to his father."--_Plautus_.

As Alwyn uttered these despairing words Greta shrank back in alarm, but
Olivia, with a reassuring smile, put her hand gently on his arm.

"Do not talk so wildly, Mr. Alwyn," she said, soothingly; "you are
frightening poor Miss Williams.