Margaret stepped hastily into the next room. In her heart which had divined the truth she was thankful for a reprieve.
"What do you mean?" asked Richard De Jarnette, harshly, driven by a great fear. "Why do you torture her so? Say plainly what you mean."
The outraged physician turned upon him savagely.
"I mean, sir," he said with some stiffness, "that this lady's child, who has unfortunately been allowed to contract scarlet fever, is in great danger of going blind. Do I make myself plain?"
His voice was low, but so intense in its indignation that it penetrated to the room beyond.
Richard De Jarnette staggered back as from a blow.
"Blind!... Good God!"
He turned abjectly toward the doorway between the two rooms where stood Margaret, white as death but with face transfigured. This was her opportunity.... And what would Philip do without her if—With a swift movement she fell on her knees at his feet and stretched out her hands.
"Richard! oh, Richard!" she cried, her heart in her eyes. "Will you give him to me if he is blind?"
The old doctor turned to the window with a groan.