"Is Gran dying?" she asked in an awed voice; "please tell me."
"She cannot live out the day," he replied. He paused for a minute, then went on: "She expressed a wish to see me; I was sent for, and, of course, went to her at once. We had a little talk together—"
"Oh, sir," broke in Melina, "is she very frightened?"
"No, not now. God has been very merciful to her; He has given her time to repent—now, at the eleventh hour. Like the dying thief on the cross, she has turned to Jesus when this world is passing—she has gone to Him at last."
"Gran has gone to Him! Do you mean—"
Melina broke off abruptly, for the cab had stopped before the hospital. The little gentleman opened the door and stepped out on the pavement, then assisted his companion to alight, and together they passed through the entrance of the great building into the vestibule beyond.
At that minute a door at one side of the vestibule opened, and a grey-haired, middle-aged nurse, who Melina subsequently learnt was the matron, appeared in company with a tall man, whose dark bearded countenance looked very grave and sad. The nurse glanced quickly from the little girl to Mr. Blackmore, then addressed the latter.
"It is all over, Mr. Blackmore," she said; she collapsed quite suddenly after you left, and never spoke again. "My dear," she added, turning to Melina, "do you understand? Your poor grandmother is dead."
Melina had never loved her grandmother—it had been impossible for her to do so. Nevertheless she felt deeply shocked, and, being in an overwrought condition, she burst again into tears; whereupon the tall man stepped forward quickly; and, folding her in his arms, covered her face with kisses.
"Oh," gasped Melina, "are you—yes, you must be my father!" She was quite sure no one but her father would kiss her like that. "Oh, father, why didn't you come before?"