She reached the library door and knocked, to receive no answer, and her repeated summonses were without effect, when, with a sigh, she turned to retrace her steps. "He will not come," she said. Then, to the maid, who had been watching her anxiously: "Have you seen Jane?" "Went out, ma'am, with one of the gardeners, ever so long ago, ma'am." "Do you know where?" "No, ma'am. She never said a word to me about it;" and the girl, and another who had joined her, turned to gaze uneasily at the closed library door. Mrs Elstree slowly retraced her steps--slowly, though shivering the while with anxiety--and returned to the bedroom, to find the scene there unchanged. But she had hardly retaken her place by the bedside when there was a rustling at the door, and she turned her head, thinking that it might be Sir Murray, but, to her surprise, Ada Norton, closely followed by Jane, entered the room. Ada spoke no word, but, gliding to the bedside, stood, pale and anxious, gazing down upon her cousin's shrunken face. Then, stooping softly, she pressed a long kiss upon her white lips, the doctor making no sign of rebuke. "Where is her child?" said Ada then, in an anxious tone, for, as she had bent down, Lady Gernon's eyes had opened, and her lips had parted in a faint whisper. "May it be fetched?" said Mrs Elstree, softly, to the doctor. "Yes--yes," he whispered, in tones that seemed to imply, "all is over now." Jane hurried, sobbing, from the room, for the last moments seemed to have come. There was something awful in the strange light of recognition that had come into Lady Gernon's eyes; but when, softly sleeping, the tiny fragile one was borne in and laid in her arms, its soft, downy cheek resting upon her breast, the faintest dawning of a smile played for an instant upon the mother's lip, her eyes gazed straight upwards for a few moments, and then closed, when, as Dr Challen swiftly pressed forward, to lean with anxious mien over the pillow, Mrs Elstree sank fainting into weeping Jane's arms, while, with a despairing wail, Ada Norton gave utterance to one word, that sounded more like declaration than eager demand, as it thrilled through the strained nerves of all present, and that word was: "Dead?" Book 1, Chapter XIX. NOT YET. Ada Norton's wild appeal was answered by the Doctor's hand being held up to command silence, and, for many hours from that moment, as he tended his patient, he refused to answer all questions. At last, though, with a sigh almost of pleasure, he said: "I'll lie down now for a few hours. Call me when she wakes."