All that day I watched by Mainwaring; in the evening I came for Nancy. "Come," I said. The child looked at me with her grave eyes—she was perfectly calm and self-possessed. I lifted her in my arms and left the room with her.
I entered the bedroom where my patient lay. The child's arms encircled my neck. My heart was beating quickly, anxiously. Little Nancy looked at me in surprise.
"Is father ill?" she asked.
Mainwaring's eyes were open. I put the child on the floor.
"Go and speak to him," I said.
She ran up to the bed.
"Are you ill, dad?" she repeated, in a clear, high voice.
"Halloa, Nan!" he said, smiling at her.
He stretched out one of his hands. The child caught it and covered it with kisses.
"Send your mother to me, my sweet Nan," he said, after a pause.