“I don’t know that,” continued Barry. “She’s weak, and ’ll do what she’s asked: besides, _they’ll_ make her do it. Fancy if, when she’s gone, I find I have to share everything with those people!” And he struck his forehead and pushed the hair off his perspiring face, as he literally shook with despair. “I must see her, Daly. I’m quite sure she’ll make a will if I beg her; they can’t hinder me seeing my own, only, dying sister; can they, Daly? And when I’m once there, I’ll sit with her, and watch till it’s all over. I’m sure, now she’s ill, I’d do anything for her.” Daly said nothing, though Barry paused for him to reply. “Only about the form,” continued he, “I wouldn’t know what to put. By heavens, Daly! you must come with me. You can be up at the house, and I can have you down at a minute’s warning.” Daly utterly declined, but Barry continued to press him. “But you must, Daly; I tell you I know I’m right. I know her so well—she’ll do it at once for the sake—for the sake of—You know she is my own sister, and all that—and she thinks so much of that kind of thing. I’ll tell you what, Daly; upon my honour and soul,” and he repeated the words in a most solemn tone, “if you’ll draw the will, and she signs it, so that I come in for the whole thing—and I know she will I’ll make over fifty—ay, seventy pounds a year for you for ever and ever. I will, as I live.” The interview ended by the attorney turning Barry Lynch into the street, and assuring him that if he ever came into his office again, on any business whatsoever, he would unscrupulously kick him out. So ended, also, the connexion between the two; for Daly never got a farthing for his labour. Indeed, after all that had taken place, he thought it as well not to trouble his _ci-devant_ client with a bill. Barry went home, and of course got drunk. When Doctor Colligan called on Lynch, he found that he was not at home. He was at that very moment at Tuam, with the attorney. The doctor repeated his visit later in the afternoon, but Barry had still not returned, and he therefore left word that he would call early after breakfast the following morning. He did so; and, after waiting half an hour in the dining-room, Barry, only half awake and half dressed, and still half drunk, came down to him. The doctor, with a long face, delivered his message, and explained to him the state in which his sister was lying; assured him that everything in the power of medicine had been and should be done; that, nevertheless, he feared the chance of recovery was remote; and ended by informing him that Miss Lynch was aware of her danger, and had expressed a wish to see him before it might be too late. Could he make it convenient to come over just now—in half an hour—or say an hour?—said the doctor, looking at the red face and unfinished toilet of the distressed brother.