“O! don’t say that, Baron! Whilst there’s life, you know, there’s always hope! But who was it, then, that screamed just now?” “Screamed!” he echoed, “did you hear a scream?” “Dear me, yes! we all heard it! I quite thought it was her ladyship coming to!” “And did you meet anybody on the stairs?” asked Von Steinberg, with interest. “_Meet anybody!_ why, no! Baron! they’re all of them below, and I have given particular orders that they don’t stir, without my permission, lest they should disturb her ladyship. But there’s the bell. I shouldn’t wonder if that was the nurse! I’ll go and see!” It proved to be the nurse, and Mrs. Marston returned with her to the bedroom. The new-comer regarded her patient in silence. It was not her business to pass an opinion of any kind, but an acute observer might have read from the expression of her eyes, that she had not much hope of a favourable ending to the case. As soon as she had taken over charge, Von Steinberg retired to his own room, leaving strict orders that he was to be called, if there was the slightest change. His head was confused and dizzy--his heart alternately burning with indignation and sorrow--he felt as if he was the greatest sinner that had ever breathed. He could not rest, but spent the evening pacing up and down the room, trying to think of some compensation for the unintentional wrong he had done. The surgeon came at midnight, and pronounced that there was no change in the Marchesa’s condition--gave a few directions to the nurse--and promised to visit his patient again on the morrow. Von Steinberg gave another look at the pale, uninteresting face that had almost become dear to him--pressed the lifeless hand--and cautioned the attendant to be sure and call him if necessary. At about four in the morning, she tapped at his door. “If you please, Baron, the lady has spoken, and seems to be looking for some one, but I’m afraid she is not yet in her right mind--a little light-headed, I mean, but you’d better come and see her.” Von Steinberg hurried on his clothes and hastened to Hannah’s bedside. Her eyes were open, and roving round the room in a strange, mystified manner, but when she caught sight of the Baron, she recognised him at once and gave a pitiful smile for welcome. “Lor! Doctor, ’ave they sent for you? I’m sure I dunno what ’ave come to me, but I feels so bad--as if I was broke all over. Why did you bring me ’ere? Be it a horspital? And do the Professor know? I should like to see the Professor, Doctor, for I feel _that_ bad, and ’e was very good to me!”