Mr. van Rensselaer opened his eyes. "A lady?" he said. "A lady, I presume, sir," said the butler. "What's her name?" "She didn't give any name, sir. She just said she must see you; and she would not take any refusal, sir." "Humph!" said the other. "I'll go in." And so in he went and gazed at the woman, who wore a heavy veil. She rose up and flung it aside, disclosing a face ghastly white, and so like a death's head that the other started back. "Do you know me?" she asked. "Er--no," said Mr. van Rensselaer. "You really don't know me, Robbie?" And then suddenly he gave a gasp, and cried, "Daisy!" "Yes," said the other, "Daisy." They sat for a full minute gazing at each other: she at a well-filled face and waist-coat; he at a trembling skeleton. "Well?" said he, suddenly; "what do you want?" "Nothing much," she replied. "I'm dying, you know, Robbie." "What's the matter?" asked he. "Consumption." "Humph! It's been a long time. What have you been doing?" "I've been living up north--in Albany. I took another name, you know, as soon as I left New York. There's a child, Robbie." "Oh!" exclaimed the other. "Sure enough! A boy?" "No, a girl." "Humph! Must be--let's see--twelve years old now." "Thirteen, Robbie. That's what I've come to see you about." "So I guessed. Is she here--in New York?" "No; she's up in Albany--with some kind people. I couldn't bear to bring her; but I--I--" The woman stopped and gazed into his eyes a moment. Then she went on swiftly, stretching out her lean arms to him. "Do something for her, Robbie, won't you? That's what I want. I'm not for this world long, and I can't help her, but you can. I've led a hard life, but she hasn't an idea of it; she has the locket you gave me, but I've kept the secret from her, and she doesn't even know her father's name. I've never bothered you, Robbie; but do for her what you might have done for me." "I imagine the old gentleman did pretty well by you, didn't he?" said the other in a matter-of-fact way. "I'm not complaining," said she. "Only promise you'll find her and do something for her. It won't hurt you--do promise me, do." The woman's voice quivered, and she leaned forward in the chair, steadying her shaking form. The other, always a kind-hearted man, was touched. "I will, Daisy," he said, "I will." "You promise me?" gasped the woman. "Yes, I promise you." All right," said she, starting to rise. "That's all I want. You won't have any trouble in finding her. Her name--her--" And then suddenly she staggered. She lurched backward, grasping at the chair, and turned white, a horrible sound coming from her throat. The man leaped forward and caught her. She lay limp in his arms. He shouted for help, and when the butler came, sent him on the run for a cab. "Take her around the corner to the hospital," he commanded.