"I will go to her at once," said Jay Gardiner.
But at that moment a man who had been hurt in a railway accident was brought in, and he was obliged to devote half an hour of his valuable time in dressing his wounds. Then with all possible haste he set out on his journey.
He gave orders to his driver to go to Miss Rogers' residence by the shortest route possible.
At that very moment, in another part of the city, a woman who had once been young and beautiful lay dying. The room in which she lay was magnificent in its costly hangings; the lace draperies that hung from the windows represented a fortune, the carpets and rugs which covered the floor were of the costliest description. Rare paintings and the richest of bric-a-brac occupied the walls and other available places. Even the lace counterpane on the bed represented the expenditure of a vast sum of money. But the woman who lay moaning there in mortal pain would have given all to have purchased one hour of ease.
"Has the doctor come yet, Mary?" she asked.
"No," replied her faithful attendant, who bent over her. "But he can not be long now, my lady. It is several hours since we telegraphed for him, and I have telephoned for him every hour since. At the office they say that he has already started for here."
"Are those carriage wheels? Go to the window, Mary, and see."
The attendant glided noiselessly to the heavily draped window and drew aside the hangings.
"No," she answered, gently; "he has not yet come."
"Something must have happened, Mary," half-sobbed the sufferer; "I am sure of it."