"Can I assist you, Miss Huntingdon?"
"I thank you; no."
"May I ask if you are ill?"
"Not in the least—but I am suddenly called away."
She passed him, and accompanied Philip to the carriage. A few minutes' rapid driving brought them to the Row, and, directing Andrew to return and wait for her father, Irene entered the low small chamber, where a human soul was pluming itself for its final flight home. The dying woman knew her even then in the fierce throes of dissolution, and the sunken eyes beamed as she bent over the pillow.
"God bless you! I knew you would come. My children—what will become of them? Will you take care of them? Tell me quick."
"Put your mind at rest, Mrs. Davis. I will see that your children are well cared for in every respect."
"Promise me!" gasped the poor sufferer, clutching the jewelled arm.
"I do promise you most solemnly that I will watch over them constantly. They shall never want so long as I live. Will you not believe me, and calm yourself?"
A ghastly smile trembled over the distorted features, and she bowed her head in assent.