"There is strong hope, since you choose to call it hope instead of fear."
"Ah! Doctor Hart, you know—you know—"
"That death in some cases might be a blessing—that death in this case certainly would. Yes, I know. And yet it is my bounden duty to do what I can to save life, so I must return to my patient," said the physician, laying his hand upon the latch of the door.
"When may I see my wife?" inquired Lyon Berners.
"Now, if you please; but she will not know you," said the doctor, shaking his head.
"I shall know her, however," muttered Mr. Berners to himself, as he raised his hat and followed the doctor into the cell, leaving Beatrix alone in the hall.
It was near midnight, and Miss Pendleton having been very properly turned out of the sick-room, and having been then forgotten, even by herself, had no place on which to lay her head.
When Mr. Berners, following the doctor, entered the cell, he found it but dimly lighted by one of the wax candles with which his care had supplied his wife.
In one corner sat Miss Tabby, whimpering, with more reason than she had ever before whimpered in her life, over the new-born baby that lay in her lap.
Near by stood old Mrs. Winterose, busy with her patient.