Brian was about to reply when Dr. Chinston entered the room. His face was very grave, and Fitzgerald looked at him in alarm.
"Madge—Miss Frettlby," he faltered.
"Is very ill," replied the doctor; "has an attack of brain fever. I can't answer for the consequences yet."
Brian sat down on the sofa, and stared at the doctor in a dazed sort of way. Madge dangerously ill—perhaps dying. What if she were to die, and he to lose the true-hearted woman who stood so nobly by him in his trouble?
"Cheer up," said Chinston, patting him on the shoulder; "while there's life there's hope, and whatever human aid can do to save her will be done."
Brian grasped the doctor's hand in silence, his heart being too full to speak.
"How did Frettlby die?" asked Calton.
"Heart disease," said Chinston. "His heart was very much affected, as I discovered a week or so ago. It appears he was walking in his sleep, and entering the drawing-room, he alarmed Miss Frettlby, who screamed, and must have touched him. He awoke suddenly, and the natural consequences followed—he dropped down dead."
"What alarmed Miss Frettlby?" asked Brian, in a low voice, covering his face with his hand.
"The sight of her father walking in his sleep, I suppose," said Chinston, buttoning his glove; "and the shock of his death which took place indirectly through her, accounts for the brain fever."