He approached the bed, and surveyed the sleeper; crossed the room with the softest footsteps, and asked a few whispered questions of the nurse; then turned quietly back, and seated himself by Frank and Barbara.
"How do you find her?" asked the latter.
Mr. Slade simply shook his head, without making any verbal reply.
"The nurse summoned us hurriedly about half-an-hour ago," whispered Churchill; "but when we came in, we found her in the state in which you now see her; she has not moved since, scarcely."
"Poor child! poor child!" said Mr. Slade, plying his pocket-handkerchief very vigorously; "she'll not move much more."
"Is she--is she very bad to-night?" asked Barbara.
"Yes, my dear," said the old gentleman, taking a large pinch of snuff to correct his emotion; "yes, my dear, she is very bad, as you would say. There is a worn pinched look in her face which is unmistakable. She is going home rapidly, poor girl!"
The sense of the last observation, though he had not heard the words, seemed to have reached Mr. Simnel's ears, for he rose hurriedly, and crossing to Mr. Slade, took him by the arm and led him on one side.
"Did you say she was dying?" he asked in a hoarse whisper, when they had moved some distance from the rest.
"I did not say so, though I implied it," said the old man; then peering at him from under his spectacles, "May I ask are you any relation of the lady's?"