He was there a torturingly long time; but at length he came out to the

room she waited in, and crossed it on his way downstairs. She rose and

followed him to the stairhead.

'How is he?' she anxiously asked. 'Will he get over it?' The doctor, not knowing the depth of her interest in the patient, spoke

with the blunt candour natural towards a comparatively indifferent

inquirer.

'No, Lady Constantine,' he replied; 'there's a change for the worse.' And he retired down the stairs.

Scarcely knowing what she did Lady Constantine ran back to Swithin's

side, flung herself upon the bed and in a paroxysm of sorrow kissed him.




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