My father opened the drawing-room door and pushed me out. He locked the door behind me. I heard him pacing the little room, and his groans of agony reached me through the thin panels of the locked door. I stumbled up-stairs. On the landing I met George. His hair was ruffled; his eyes red and sunk into his head. He had evidently been crying--crying, hard man that he was, until his eyelids were swelled and blistered. "So you have come, Rose," he said; "that is well. You will put everything right, of course?" "You have seen Mr Gray, too," I whispered. "Yes, yes; for God's sake don't lose a minute in putting things straight." "But can I?" I whispered back. "Even money cannot always, always save." "You can but try," retorted George. "Go and speak to the doctors. Our mother's life depends on your actions I am firmly convinced. Here is Dr Johnson. Will you talk to my sister, doctor?" The family physician motioned me into a spare bedroom. He introduced me to the London doctor, and they began a semi-technical explanation of my mother's case. "Things are bad, but not hopeless," said Dr Keith. "If certain measures are taken directly, there is no reason why Mrs Lindley may not revive and gain strength, and have many years of life before her. Her lungs are undoubtedly affected, but the worst mischief is in connection with the heart. Listen, Miss Lindley. I have one emphatic direction to give. Your mother must have _no more worries_." "No more worries," I repeated under my breath. "Yes, yes, I understand." "You are looking very ill yourself, my dear child," said Dr Johnson. "Never mind me," I said, turning away impatiently. "But I must and will mind you," retorted our fussy little family doctor. "Dr Keith, there is not a more admirable girl in the land than Rosamund Lindley." Dr Keith bowed an acknowledgment of my merits. Then he took his watch out of his pocket. "I really must catch the next train," he said. "Good-bye, Miss Lindley. Johnson will go into the particulars of our proposed treatment with you; but remember above all things, no worry. As much cheerfulness as you can possibly manage; a generous diet, the best champagne--I have ordered a special brand--and--and--I think we'll do. In all probability in about a fortnight Mrs Lindley will be well enough to be moved by easy stages to Cannes. Good-bye, Miss Lindley; keep up a brave heart." Dr Keith went cheerfully out of the room. Perhaps he imagined that he had given me excellent advice. Perhaps he had, if I could only have acted on it. I rushed away to my room, bathed my face and hands, put on slippers which made no sound, and my prettiest afternoon dress. Then on tip-toe I went across the landing to my mother's room; on tip-toe my father was coming up the stairs. "Well, Rosamund, you have seen the doctors?" "Yes, father." "You know what they wish?" "Yes, father." "You will do it?" "Yes--I will do it."