"He died sitting up?"
"Yes. It was getting late, but he would not return to bed. He had been talking to me about many things; I was on a low seat, my head leaning against him. He died with his arm round me."
"What a trial! What a shock it must have been!"
"I had no idea he was dead. He ceased talking, and I remained quiet, not to disturb him. My aunt Bettina came in, and saw what had happened."
He scarcely knew what to say in answer. All comments at such a time are so grievously inadequate. He murmured some words of pity for the fate of Dr. Davenal, of compassion for her.
"It is Hallingham that deserves, perhaps, most of real pity," she resumed, speaking in this matter-of-fact way that she might succeed in retaining her composure. "I do not know who will replace my father: no one, I fear, for a long while. If you knew how he is mourned----"
She stopped, perhaps at a loss for words.
"Did he suffer much?" asked Mr. Oswald Cray.
"He suffered here"--touching her chest--"but the pain ceased the last day or two, and the breathing got better. He had a great deal of pain of mind--as--perhaps--you--know. He was quite resigned to die: he said God was taking him to a better home."
Still at cross-purposes. Sara's hesitating avowal pointed to a different cause of mental pain from that assumed by Oswald Cray.