"We fear so; God grant that we may be mistaken! But will you come at once?"
"At once of course, Hubert."
"Then follow me; the carriage is waiting."
The young man had reached the door even as he spoke.
Morton paused in the midst of the brilliantly lighted room, every vestige of color fled even from his lips.
"Merciful Powers!" he murmured, "am I waking from some hallowed dream or from some infernal nightmare? No, no! this is the test she bid me mark! It is no fantasy! it is reality!"
Even in his haste he was mindful of his waiting client, and flung open the door of his study. A sharp draught of air from the open casement extinguished the candle that burned within, leaving in its stead the lance of a pale young moon.
Bathed in the aqueous light stood Margaret Revaleon, regarding him with wistful eyes.
"Well, doctor," she began, "you have returned to pass sentence upon me?"
"By no means, Mrs. Revaleon," he answered, hastily; "I have only to say that your case is a singular one. While I have no reason to believe that any real danger will ever result from the 'condition' of which you complain, I am forced to admit that I know of no treatment for you at this time. I beg you to excuse me now, as I am called to attend a critical case. My servant will wait upon you."