“I believe it will, but I cannot take it from your hand; and he kept his eyes fixed upon her with a melancholy gaze as he spoke.
“And why not from mine, papa? Surely you would not change your mind now. You have taken all your medicine from me, up to this moment.”
“I will take it myself, presently, Lucy.”
“Will you promise me, papa?” she said, endeavoring to smile.
“Yes, Lucy, I promise you.”
“But, papa, I had forgotten to say that Lord Dunroe has called to ask an interview with me. He and Dean Palmer are now in the drawing-room.”
“Have you seen him?” asked her father.
“Not yet, papa.”
“Will you see him?”
“Lord Cullamore sent the Dean to me to say, that it was his earnest request I should—his last.”