'Hush! he knows you are here;--you, I mean, Aunt Milly,' perceiving Polly now, with some surprise; 'but we must be very careful. Last night I thought we should have lost him. Ah, Dr. John, how good of you to bring them! Come in here; we expected you, you see, Aunt Milly,' and he led them into poor Roy's sitting-room. There was a blazing fire in the studio; the white china tiles reflected a pleasant glow and heat; the heavy draperies that veiled the cross-lights looked snug and dark; tea was on the little round table; a large old-fashioned couch stood, inviting, near. Richard took off Mildred's bonnet and hung it on an empty easel; Polly's furs found a place on a wonderfully carved oak-chest. There was all the usual lumber belonging to a studio. Richard, in an interval of leisure, had indeed cleared away a heterogeneous rubbish of pipes, boxing-gloves, and foils, but the upper part of the room was a perfect chaos of portfolios, books, and musical instruments, the little square piano literally groaned under the dusty records; still there was a wide space of comfort round the tiled fireplace, where all manner of nursery tales leaped into existence under the kindling flame, with just enough confusion to be quaint and picturesque. Neither Mildred nor Polly found fault with the suit of armour and the carved chair, that was good for everything but to sit upon; the plaster busts and sham bronzes struck them as beautiful; the old red velvet curtain had an imposing effect, as well as the shreds and scraps of colour introduced everywhere. Roy's velvet coat and gold-tasselled smoking-cap lay side by side with an old Venetian garment, stiff with embroidery and dirt. Polly touched it caressingly as she passed. Mildred's eyes had noted all these surroundings while she sat down on the couch where Roy had tossed for so many, many days, and let Richard wait on her; but her anxious looks still mutely questioned him. 'You shall go in and see him directly you are rested and have had some tea,' said Richard, busily occupying himself with the little black kettle. 'He heard your bell, and made a sign to me to come to you; he has been wishing for you all night, poor fellow; but it was his own fault, telegraphing to me instead.' 'You look fagged, Cardie; and no wonder--it must have been dreadful for you alone.' 'Mrs. Madison was with me. I would not have been without her; she is a capital nurse, whatever Rex may say. At one time I got alarmed; the pain in the side increased, and the distressed breathing was painful to hear, the pulse reaching to a great height. I fancied once or twice that he was a little light-headed.' 'Very probably,' returned Dr. Heriot, gravely, placing himself quietly between Mildred and the fire, as she shielded her face from the flame. 'I cannot understand how such a state of things should be. I always thought Roy's a tolerably sound constitution; nothing ever seemed to give him cold.'