"O yes yes, papa, I know that. We all know it. Did she die quite suddenly? Was she sensible of her state?" "People who die under the influence of chloroform seldom know anything after inhaling it. She did not. Sara, it is a painful subject; I would rather not speak of it. I feel it greatly--greatly." She quitted him and went upstairs to take off her things. When she came down again Dr. Davenal was in the dining-room, and the tray, as was usual when they dined early, was on the table with some slight refreshment. "Not anything for me," said the doctor to his sister. "I cannot eat tonight." He did not sit down: he was pacing the carpet with thoughtful, measured tread. Neal stole a glance at him from under the corner of his eyes. "Shall I light the gas in your study, sir, tonight?" "No. Yes, you may light one burner," the doctor added after a moment's pause. "What's the matter, Richard?" asked Miss Davenal. "You seem cut up. Have you had a hard day's work today?" "Pretty well," called out the doctor. "Do you know who it is that's dead? Very queer that the passing-bell should toll out at night!" "You can tell your aunt, Sara," the doctor quietly said, as he stepped to the door of the room, and vanished. "Well, I'm sure!" angrily cried Miss Davenal. "My brother is polite tonight. He might have answered me." Sara pushed from her the piece of cake she had been trying to eat, and went close to her aunt, speaking in her slowest and most distinct tones. "Don't you see that papa has had a great shock--a blow, Aunt Bettina? Lady Oswald is dead." Poor Miss Davenal, never very quick at comprehending, confused the information together in the most helpless manner. "What do you say? Lady Oswald has had a blow? Who's dead?" "Aunt, aunt, you will understand me if you won't be impatient. Lady Oswald is dead. And I say it is a great blow to papa. I can see that it is." Miss Davenal heard now, and looked perfectly scared. "Lady Oswald dead! It cannot be, Sara." "She had to undergo some operation in consequence of the accident, and papa gave her chloroform, hoping of course to lighten the pain, and she never rallied from it." Miss Davenal seized Sara's hands in her dismay. Her senses were sharpened and she had heard perfectly; her face had turned white. Neal, who had come in, looked at her as he stood near the door, and wondered whether she was going to faint. "Sara, I don't like that chloroform. I have told the doctor so, often and often. They should never try it upon me. Who gave it her?" "Papa," replied Sara, never dreaming but she was correct in saying so. "Aunt Bettina, he gave it her for the best." "Best! of course he gave it for the best--nobody disputes that. But I don't like it: I never did like it. Chloroform is come into fashion now--an improvement on the old state of things, they call it, as they call the railways--and I don't deny that it spares pain; but I do not like it."