rove
to be a painful sight.

And she was not far wrong. For the violent cough produced on this
occasion one of its most serious results. The shock, the exposure, the
exertion, had proved almost too much for Mrs. Wyvis Brand's strength.
She ruptured a blood-vessel just as the doctor entered the house; and
all that he could do was to check the bleeding with ice, and enjoin
perfect quiet and repose. And when he had seen her, he had to hear from
Janetta the story of that terrible night. She felt that it was wise to
trust Dr. Burroughs entirely, and she told him, in outline, the whole
story of Mrs. Brand's depression of spirits, and of her evident half-mad
notion that she might gain Wyvis' forgiveness for her past mistakes by
some deed that would set him free from his unloved wife, and enable him
to lead a happier life in the future.

The doctor shook his head when he saw his patient. "It is just as well
for her, perhaps," he said afterwards, "but it is sad for her son and
for those who love her--if any one does! She will probably not recover.
She is in a state of complete prostration; and she will most likely slip
away in sleep."

"Oh, I am sorry," said Janetta, with tears in her eyes.

The doctor looked at her kindly. "You need not be sorry for her, my
dear. She is best out of a world which she was not fitted to cope with.
You should not wish her to stay."

"It will be so sad for Wyvis, when he comes home to-day," murmured
Janetta, her lip trembling.

"He is coming to-day, is he? Early this morning? I will stay with you,
if you like."

Janetta was glad of the offer, although it gave her an uneasy feeling
that the end was nearer than she thought.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

THE LAST SCENE.

"She does not know you," Dr. Burroughs said, when, a few hours later,
Wyvis bent over his mother's pillow and looked into her quiet,
care-lined face.

"Will she never know me?" asked the young man in a tone of deep
distress. "My poor mother! I must tell her how sorry I am for the pain
that I have often given her."

"She may be conscious for a few minutes by-and-bye," the doctor said.
"But consciousness will only show that the end is near."

There was a silence in the room. Mrs. Brand had now lain in a stupor for
many hours. Wyvis had been greeted on his arrival with sad news indeed:
his mother and wife were seriously ill, and the doctor acknowledged
that he did not think Mrs. Brand likely to live for many hours.

Wyvis