When she reached the little entrance hall, and was about to open the door of the parlor where she expected to find Mrs. Staunton, she was surprised to come face to face with a tall, bronzed young man, who was taking off his hat and hanging it on one of the pegs in the hat-rack. He turned, and started when, he saw her. He was evidently unfamiliar with nurses and sickness. His face flushed up, and he said in a sort of apologetic way: "Surely this is Dr. Staunton's house?" "Yes," said Dorothy. "I am George Staunton. I--I came down on pressing business--I want to see my father in a hurry. What is the matter?" He stepped back a pace or two, startled by the expression on Dorothy's face. "Come in here at once," she said, seizing his hand. She dragged him into the seldom-used drawing-room. The moment they got inside, she deliberately locked the door. "You have come just in time," she said. "You must bear up. I hope you'll be brave. Can you bear a great shock without--without fainting, or anything of that sort?" "Oh, I won't faint!" he answered. His lips trembled, his blue eyes grew wide open, the pupils began to dilate. "I believe you are a brave lad," said Dorothy, noticing these signs. "It is your lot now to come face to face with great trouble. Dr. Staunton--your father--is dying." "Good God! Merciful God!" said the lad. He sank down on the nearest chair--he was white to the lips. Dorothy went up and took his hand. "There, there!" she said. "You'll be better in a moment. Try to forget yourself--we have not, any of us, a single instant just now to think of ourselves. I have come down to fetch your mother." "You are the nurse?" said George, glancing at her dress. "Yes, I am nursing your father. It has been a very bad case--diphtheria--a very acute and hopeless case from the first. There's a great deal of infection. Are you afraid?" "No, no! don't talk of fear. I'll go to him. I--I was in trouble myself, but that must wait. I'll go to him at once." "I want you to go to your mother." "My mother! is she ill too?" "She is not exactly ill--I mean she is not worse than usual, but her life is bound up in your father's. It would be a dreadful thing for your sisters and yourself if your mother were to die. Your coming here at this moment may mean her salvation. I have to go to her now, to tell her that her dying husband has sent for her. Will you follow me into the room? Will you act according to your own impulses? I am sure God will direct you. Stay where you are for a minute--try to be brave. Follow me into the room as soon as you can." Dorothy left the drawing room. As she went away, she heard the young man groan. She did not give herself time to think--she opened the parlor door.