"O papa! surely you are not going from me!"
Utterly unnerved, the words had broken from her in her misery. Dr. Davenal resumed in a tender, reasoning accent.
"I must have you brave, darling; just for a short while. Won't you try and be so? You see I have only you to speak to, Edward being away. My strength may not last very long."
She understood him: that his strength might not hold out if she hindered him by giving way to emotion. The precious time! not much of it might be left to them. With a mighty effort of will, with an anguished sigh to Heaven for help, Sara Davenal outwardly grew still and calm.
"Tell me all you have to tell, papa. I will try and be to you what Edward would have been."
"In the old will, made subsequent to the death of Richard, the chief part of what I had to leave was divided equally between you and Edward. Caroline--but it matters not to speak of her. In this new will, made now since this illness, all I die possessed of is bequeathed to you."
"To me!" she echoed, the injustice of the thing striking on her mind in the first blush of the words.
"Do you think, after what has happened, that Edward could have any right to it?"
She was silent. The doctor lay still for a few moments to gather breath. His voice was so weak that she could barely catch some of the words.
"When Edward brought that ill upon us, which has gone well-nigh to kill me--which I believe in a measure has killed me, in so far as that it rendered my state of mind and body such that I have been unable to fight against what might otherwise have proved but a slight disorder--when he brought it upon us, I say, I had only one way open to me--to sacrifice my property and save him. All fathers might not have done it, though most would: but I believe few fathers love their children as I have loved mine. But to save him, I had not only to sacrifice my property, but also in a measure to sacrifice you."