"Oh, Julie," said the Duchess, reproachfully, "I don't like you to do that!"
She flushed and frowned. It was she who ought to pay such acts of homage, not Julie.
"Father, Miss Le Breton is here."
"Let her come in, Jack--and the Duchess, too."
Lord Uredale went back to the door. Two figures came noiselessly into the room, the Duchess in front, with Julie's hand in hers.
Lord Lackington was propped up in bed, and breathing fast. But he smiled as they approached him.
"This is good-bye, dear Duchess," he said, in a whisper, as she bent over him. Then, with a spark of his old gayety in the eyes, "I should be a cur to grumble. Life has been very agreeable. Ah, Julie!"
Julie dropped gently on her knees beside him and laid her cheek against his arm. At the mention of her name the old man's face had clouded as though the thoughts she called up had suddenly rebuked his words to the Duchess. He feebly moved his hands towards hers, and there was silence in the room for a few moments.
"Uredale!"