His aunt met him in the hall and whispered, "Be gentle."
"Remain here," was his low reply. "I have also sent for Dr. Markham;" and he entered.
Grace reached out to him both her hands as she said, "Oh, Alford, you are barely in time. It is a comfort beyond all words to see you before—before—" She could not finish the sinister sentence.
He gravely and silently took her hands, and sat down beside her.
"I know I disappoint you," she continued. "I've been your evil genius, I've saddened your whole life; and you have been so true and faithful! Promise me, Alford, that after I'm gone you will not let my blighted life cast its shadow over your future years. How strangely stern you look!"
"So you intend to die, Grace?" were his first, low words.
"Intend to die?"
"Yes. Do you think you are doing right by your father in dying?"
"Dear, dear papa! I have long ceased to be a comfort to him. He, too, will be better when I am gone. I am now a hopeless grief to him. Alford, dear Alford, do not look at me in that way."
"How else can I look? Do you not comprehend what your death means to me, if not to others?"