“Does the mother of Miss Alice Laurens live here?”
“Yes; is there anything wrong?” inquired Mr. North curiously, and at the same moment the pale, agitated face of Willie Laurens appeared in the doorway, and he said:
“I am the brother of Alice Laurens. What is wrong?”
The man looked at him with pitying eyes, and answered:
“Heaven knows I hate to tell you, but I have no choice. An accident has befallen your sister. She fell through an open hatchway at Arnell & Grey’s a few minutes ago, and—break it to her mother as gently as you can, for they are bringing her here now. She is very badly hurt. It is not believed that she can live.”
“Terrible!” cried Mr. North, as he flung out his arms to support Willie Laurens, who had reeled and staggered in agony at that heart-rending announcement.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CAUGHT IN A TRAP.
Pretty sixteen-year-old Alice Laurens looked wonderfully like her elder sister as she lay, with pale face and close-shut lids, upon her little bed, with her mother and only remaining sister, Nora, weeping over her, while Mr. Finley hovered, like a bird of prey, in the background, heartlessly calculating in his own mind how far this accident might be turned to his advantage in forcing Pansy Falconer to own her identity, and to pay his price for keeping her secret from her proud husband.
Alice Laurens had a broken arm, and had remained unconscious ever since her fall, so that the physicians feared she had sustained internal injuries that would speedily result in death. One of them had accompanied her home, and sat in grave silence, watching the scene, while Willie Laurens, utterly crushed and disheartened, had flung himself into a chair, and, with his convulsed face hidden in his hands, seemed utterly oblivious to everything but his sorrow.
Altogether, it was a sad scene on which the parting sun’s rays fell, as they slanted in at the open door and penciled with golden beams the prematurely silvered head of the unhappy mother as she knelt by her unconscious child, uttering piteous moans of grief and despair, for her afflictions pressed heavily on her heart.