“Of course I did,” said the doctor rising, “and you have no cause for alarm. Ah, Miss Mary, I did not see you at first.”
“Don’t deceive me, Doctor Asher,” said Claude, in agonised tones; “tell me the worst.”
“There is no worse to tell you, my dear child. I dare say your father will be well enough to sit up to-morrow.”
“Thank heaven!” said Claude to herself. Then, turning to the doctor: “How is poor Isaac Woodham?”
“Don’t ask me.”
“How dreadful!”
“Yes; it was a terrible accident.”
“But is there no hope?”
“You asked me not to deceive you,” said the doctor gravely. “None at all.”
Just then the sick man moaned slightly in his sleep, and made an uneasy movement which took his daughter back to his side.