"How sad you look, papa!" cried Sara, as she noted his depressed attitude. "And you are all in the dark!"
Dr. Davenal aroused himself, put his hand on his daughter, and turned round to face the street. At that moment the death-bell rang out.
Accustomed now to the darkness of the room--not that it was entirely dark, for the doctor had thrown open the Venetian blind, and the gas-lamp cast in its rays brightly--Sara could see how sad and clouded was his face. The death-bell was striking out its quick sharp strokes.
"Do you know who the bell is tolling for, papa? I never heard it ring out so late as this."
"I expect it is tolling for Lady Oswald."
"Papa! For Lady Oswald?" She quite shrieked as she said it in her startled surprise.
"She is dead, child," he said, his subdued voice a contrast to hers.
"O papa! Was it the operation? Did she die under it?"
"Yes--in one sense. The operation was successfully accomplished, but--chloroform was exhibited, and she never rallied from it."
Sara stood still, her heart beating. It seemed that a hundred regrets were crowding upon her, a hundred questions. "O papa, why did you administer chloroform?" she exclaimed, scarcely knowing what she said.