He was worse than ever next day; all through the night his fears had been exaggerated and had kept him awake, and in the morning the doctor was sent for--for the first time he wanted one. When he came he was struck by the desolate and uncomfortable look of the rich man's surroundings; his servants were too much afraid of him to spend one unnecessary moment in his company; the contrast between services paid for, and services given from love and affection, were startling to a man who saw the poor in their hours of sickness, and who saw the tenderness of heart and the care amongst them, however roughly it might be shown. He knew little of the man before him, except that he had been a hard man to his brother-in-law and to the half-sister whom he had seen in former days, by the father's side, so often; but he was full of compassion for him and for his want of womanly care and kindness. "You should have womankind, in some way, about you," he said. "You are not so ill; you will pull through this all right; but you may be ill again, and you need care and kindness. What a pity you have no family! Many a man would marry if he could look forward and see himself left to the mercy of servants and strangers when he is ill." "I lost my wife," said John Sandford, abruptly. "I'm sorry," said Doctor Bayne. "I forgot that; I now remember hearing of it. Well, it cannot be helped, but it makes a great difference having young ones about one; young people make one young again." He stayed some time from pure kindness, and Mr. Sandford was anything but grateful to him; he wanted to think out by himself the thought his words had given him. However, he asked him to come next day; his visit was something to look forward to. When he left Mr. Sandford lay quietly thinking. "Young people make one young again." Perhaps this was true; he was not old; he was strong and had never been ill. He was a hale strong man under sixty, and yet the doctor spoke as though now he must expect illness, then after illness came the end, yes, the end! The evening shadows crept slowly over everything; all the hours since the doctor had left him John Sandford lay quiet, thinking, thinking of all that had come and gone, all that might come and go. At length he slept, and in his sleep, caused by the soothing draught given to him, he dreamed strange things; some one, his sister, seemed pursuing him with something that always threatened to overwhelm him, and two girls kept warding it off. He saw their outstretched hands, and he had a sort of consciousness that with them there, she could not hurt him. The dream was so vivid that when he woke he looked round him expecting still to see the pursuing figure. He gave a deep sigh, the reality had been to terrible so him.