When the doctor came again, at six o’clock, he whispered to Joseph that the end was nearer than he had anticipated. Near, indeed; less than ten minutes after the warning had been given Michael ceased to breathe.
Jane knelt by the bed, convulsed with grief, unable to hear the words her father addressed to her. He sat for five minutes, then again spoke. She rose and replied.
‘Will you come with us, Jane, or would rather stay with Mrs. Byass?’
‘I will stay, please, father.’
He hesitated, but the thought that rose was even for him too ignoble to be entertained.
‘As you please, my dear. Of course no one must enter your rooms but Mrs. Byass. I must go now, but I shall look in again to-night.’
‘Yes, father.’
She spoke mechanically. He had to lead her from the room, and, on quitting the house, left her all but unconscious in Bessie’s arms.
CHAPTER XXXVI
THE HEIR
‘And you mean to say,’ cried Clem, when she was in the cab with her husband speeding back to Burton Crescent—‘you mean to say as you’ve left them people to do what they like?’