With that peculiar sensation of awe that serious illness always engenders, he tip-toed after her, a sense of apprehensive depression growing upon him with every step. As they neared the end of the passage, a door opened noiselessly, and two figures emerged from a darkened room. The taller of the two--a pale, emaciated woman, dressed in mourning--was unknown to him; but a glance told him that the latter was little Nance, grown to pretty, immature girlhood. On catching sight of him, she drew back with a passing touch of the old shyness; but, conquering it almost directly, she came forward and shook hands in silence. In the momentary greeting, he saw that her vivacious little face was red and marred by tears; but before he had time for further observation Clodagh touched his arm. "My aunt, Mrs. Asshlin!" she whispered. Milbanke bowed, and Mrs. Asshlin extended her hand. "We meet on a sad occasion, Mr. Milbanke," she murmured in a low, querulous voice. "My poor brother-in-law was always such a rash man. But with some people, you know, there is no such thing as remonstrating. Even this morning when Mr. Curry, our rector from Carrigmore, came to have a little talk with him, he was barely polite; and it was only yesterday that we dared to tell him that Doctor Gallagher insisted on having a nurse. Now, what can you do with a patient like that?" Milbanke murmured something vaguely unintelligible; and Clodagh stirred impatiently. "Did you give him the medicine, Aunt Fan?" she asked. "I did; but with great difficulty. My brother-in-law has always been averse to medical aid," she explained to Milbanke. "He's never had any need of it," Clodagh whispered sharply. "Will you come, Mr. Milbanke? He's quite alone. The nurse is resting." With great dignity Mrs. Asshlin moved away. "I shall ask Hannah to get me a cup of tea, Clodagh," she murmured. "I get such a headache from a sick-room." Without replying, Clodagh turned again to Milbanke. "He's not to get excited," she whispered. "And mind--mind--don't say that you think him looking badly." She paused and laid her fingers lightly on his arm; then with a swift movement, she stepped forward, drawing him with her into the big, darkened room with its sense of preternatural quiet, and its pungent, suggestive smell of drugs and antiseptic dressings. CHAPTER II With a strange blending of curiosity and shrinking, Milbanke obeyed the pressure of Clodagh's hand, and moved forward into the room. The cold March daylight was partly excluded by drawn blinds, but a glow from the fire played upon the walls and the high four-post bedstead. With the same mingling of curiosity and dread, his eyes fell at once upon this prominent article of furniture and remained fixed there in doubt and incredulity. For the moment his senses refused to acknowledge that the feverish, haggard face that stared at him from the pillows was the face of Asshlin--Asshlin, tyrannical, passionate, greedy of life.