"Yes, yes, of course, I remember. Gabrielle sent for me a few moments ago—she had called the doctor to Eva—Eva! Ah, let me go to my child," she cried, waving Philip aside as he was going to speak again.
But before she reached the door, Gabrielle had opened it.
"Are you coming?" said the poor girl, with tears in her voice.
"Eva?"
"Yes, she is worse; it is diphtheria."
Dora realised now the full import of the former message. With one horror-struck look at the distressed white face before her, she rushed from the room uttering a broken cry—
"Eva!"
Gabrielle followed after her, and Philip was left crushed, stunned, incapable yet of understanding clearly the terrible scene which he had just witnessed, or the new terror with which he was brought face to face.