His manner soothed them, and the vague feeling of alarm subsided. None of them looked to the worst side--and a day or two passed on. Dr. Tyler came again now as well as Mr. Forth. One morning when the doctors were driving out of the stable-yard--that way was more convenient to the high-road than the front-entrance--they met Mr. Cleveland. Mr. Forth pulled up, and the Rector leaned on the gig while he talked to them, one hand on the wing, the other on the dashboard. "How is he this morning?" "We were speaking of you, sir," replied Mr. Forth: "saying that you, as Mr. Dalrymple's chief friend, would be the best to break the news to the Grange. There is no hope." "No hope of his life?" "None. A day or two must terminate it." Mr. Cleveland was inexpressibly shocked. He could not at first speak. "This is very sudden, gentlemen." "Not particularly so. At least, not to us. We have done all in our power, but it has mastered us. Will you break it to him?" "Yes," he answered, quitting them. "It is a hard task; but some one must do it." And he went straight to Mr. Dalrymple. In the evening, Robert, who had been away all day on some matter of business, returned. As he went to his father's room to report what he had done, his mother came out of it. She had her handkerchief to her face: Robert supposed she was afraid of draughts. He approached the bed. Mr. Dalrymple, looking flushed and restless, took Robert's hand and held it in his. "Have they told you the news, my boy?" "No," answered Robert, never suspecting the true meaning of the words. "Is there any?" Robert Dalrymple the elder gazed at him; a yearning gaze. And an uneasy sensation stole over his son. "I am going to leave you, Robert." He understood, and sank down by the side of the bed. It was as if a thunderbolt had struck him: and one that would leave its trace throughout life. "Father! It cannot be!" "In a day or two, Robert. That is all of time they can promise me now." He cried out with a low, wailing cry, and let his head drop on the counterpane beside his father. "You must not take it too much to heart, my son. Remember: that is one of my dying injunctions." "I wish I could die for you, father!" he passionately uttered. "I shall never forgive myself." "I forgive you heartily and freely, Robert. My boy, see you not that this must be God's good will? I could die in peace, but for the thought of your mother and sisters. I can but leave them to you: will you take care of and cherish them?" He lifted his head, speaking eagerly. "I will, I will. They shall be my only care. Father, this shall ever be their home. I swear----" "Be silent, Robert!" interrupted Mr. Dalrymple, his voice raised in emotion. "How dare you? _Never take a rash oath_." "I mean to fulfil it, father; just as though I had taken it. This shall ever be my mother's home. But, oh, to lose you thus! My father, say once more that you do forgive me. Oh, father, forgive and bless me before you die!"