"No one knows how this grieves me," he said unsteadily. "Why, I've known her since she was a baby." From the depth of her heart Joan pitied him. "The lungs may have gone very suddenly," she said. He looked at her gratefully. "And what about a consultation?" he asked with more confidence. Joan turned to her mother. "There must be one," she told her. "But not a specialist. Oh, please, not a specialist," implored Mrs. Ogden. "You don't know what a horror I have of them!" "There's a colleague of mine down here, Doctor Jennings. I'd like to call him in, Mrs. Ogden, if you won't get a London man; but I'm afraid he can't say any more than I have." "Is he a specialist?" inquired Mrs. Ogden suspiciously. "No, oh no, just a general practitioner, but a very able young man." Joan nodded. "Bring him this afternoon," she said. The doctors arrived together about three o'clock. Joan, sitting in the dining-room, heard their peremptory ring and ran to open the door. She felt as though she were in a kind of dream; only half conscious of what was going on around her. In the dream she found herself shaking hands with Doctor Jennings, and then following him and Doctor Thomas upstairs. Doctor Jennings was young and clean and smelt a little of some disinfectant; it was not an unpleasant smell, rather the reverse, she thought. Milly looked up with wide, frightened eyes, from her pillow as they entered; Joan took her hand and kissed it. Doctor Jennings, who seemed very kind, smiled reassuringly at the patient while making his exhaustive examination, but once outside the bedroom his smile died away. "I should like a few minutes alone with Doctor Thomas," he said. Joan took them into the dining-room and left them. She began pacing up and down outside in the hall, listening vaguely to the murmur of their lowered voices. Presently Doctor Thomas looked out. "Will you and your mother please come in now." She went slowly into the drawing-room and fetched her mother; Mrs. Ogden looked up with a frightened face and clung to her arm. "What do they say?" she demanded in a loud whisper. The two doctors were standing by the window. "Please sit down, Mrs. Ogden," said Doctor Jennings, pushing forward a chair. It was all over very soon and the doctors had left. They were completely agreed, it seemed; Milly's lungs were already far gone and there was practically no hope. Doctor Jennings would have liked to send her to Davos Platz, but she was not strong enough to take the journey, and in any case he seemed doubtful as to whether it was not too late. 2