"How long have I to live? I want the truth."
"Sir Noel, it is very hard, yet it must be Heaven's will. But a few hours, I fear."
"So soon?" said the dying man. "I did not think—Send for Lady Thetford," he cried, wildly, half raising himself again—"send for Lady Thetford at once!"
"We have sent for her," said the doctor; "she will be here very soon. But the clergyman, Sir Noel—the clergyman. Shall we not send for him?"
"No!" said Sir Noel, sharply. "What do I want of a clergyman? Leave me, both of you. Stay, you can give me something, Gale, to keep up my strength to the last? I shall need it. Now go. I want to see no one but Lady Thetford."
"My lady has come," cried Mrs. Hilliard, starting to her feet; and at the same moment the door was opened by Arneaud, and a lady in a sparkling ball-dress swept in. She stood for a moment on the threshold, looking from face to face with a bewildered air.
She was very young—scarcely twenty, and unmistakably beautiful. Taller than common, willowy and slight, with great, dark eyes, flowing dark curls, and a colorless olive skin. The darkly handsome face, with pride in every feature, was blanched now almost to the hue of the dying man's; but that glittering bride-like figure, with its misty point-lace and blazing diamonds, seemed in strange contradiction to the idea of death.
"My lady! my lady!" cried Mrs. Hilliard, with a suppressed sob, moving near her.
The deep, dark eyes turned upon her for an instant, then wandered back to the bed; but she never moved.
"Ada," said Sir Noel, faintly, "come here. The rest of you go. I want no one but my wife."