The rest died on my lips as I saw her draw down her veil to hide her convulsed face, and then, without a word, she rang the bell, the door was opened for us, and, feeling like one in a dream, I walked in silence by their side to the house in Great Ormond Street, where, as I placed my latchkey in the door, it was snatched open, and Mary, with her face red with weeping, stood there. "Oh, Miss Linny! Oh, Master Antony!" she sobbed, "I'm so glad you've come. The doctor sent me out of the room, and I've been waiting for you." "Is my brother worse?" sobbed Linny hysterically. "Yes, yes, my dear, I'm--I'm afraid so;" and as she spoke, a hand clutched mine, and I heard Miss Carr moan: "God help me! Am I too late?" Linny was already half up the first flight, when Miss Carr whispered to me in agonised tones: "Take me to him, Antony, quick. This is no time for pride and shame." With my heart beating painfully, I led her upstairs, and, as we reached the first floor, we met the doctor coming down. I felt Miss Carr's hand pressing mine convulsively, and I spoke, my voice sounding hoarse and strange. "Is he worse, doctor?" "I'm afraid he cannot last many hours longer," he said. "I have done all I can, but I have a patient a few streets off whom I must see, and I will return in a short time. He must not be left." "Shall I go in and try to prepare him for your coming?" I whispered to Miss Carr, as we stood outside his door. "No, no!" she cried. "Take me to him at once, or I cannot bear it. Don't speak to me, Antony. Don't let anybody speak to me; but you must not leave me for a moment." Linny was at the door, standing with the handle in her hand, but she drew back as we approached, and then ran sobbing into the next room, where Mrs Hallett was sitting helpless and alone. I obeyed Miss Carr, leading her quickly inside, and closing the door, where she stood for a moment with one hand pressing her breast; then she hastily tore off bonnet and veil, gazing at the pale face and great dreamy eyes fixed wistfully upon the window. The noise of our entry, slight as it was, seemed to rouse him, for he turned his gaze heavily from the light towards where we stood, and I saw that he held in his thin wasted hand a little grey kid glove, the glove we had found in Epping Forest that happy day when we met the sisters in our wait. But that was forgotten in the change I saw come over the poor fellow's face. It seemed to light up; the dull dreamy eyes dilated; a look of dread, of wonder, or joy seemed to come into them, and then he seemed to make an effort, and stared wildly round the room, but only to gaze at Miss Carr again as she stood with her hands half raised in a beseeching way, till, with a wild cry, his head seemed to fall back and he lay without motion.