It was not unusual for messengers to summon Dr. Grey during the night, and she was not surprised when, some moments later, she heard his voice in the hall. After the lapse of a quarter of an hour, his firm, well-known step approached and paused at her threshold. "Salome, are you up?" "Yes, sir." "Come into the passage." She opened the door, and stood with the candle in her hand. "I regret exceedingly that I am compelled to leave here immediately, as I must hasten to see a man and child who have been horribly burned and injured by the falling in of a roof. The parties live some distance in the country, and I fear I shall not be able to get back in time to go with you to the cars. I shall drive as rapidly as possible, and hope to accompany you, but if I should be detained, here is a note which I hastily scribbled to Mr. Miller, the conductor, whom you will find a very kind and courteous gentleman. I sincerely deplore this summons, but the sufferers are old friends of my sister, and I hope you will believe that nothing but a case of life and death would prevent me from seeing you aboard the train." "I am sorry, sir, that you thought it necessary to apologize." She was not yet prepared to part from him forever,--she had been nerving herself for the final interview at the depot; but now it came with a shock that utterly stunned her, and she reeled against the door-facing, as if recoiling from some fearful blow. The livid pallor of her lips, and the spasm of agony that contracted her features, frightened him, and, as he sprang closer to her, the candle fell from her fingers. He caught it, ere it reached the mat, and placed it on a chair. "My dear child, your arm pains you, and I beg you to defer your journey at least until Tuesday. I shall be anxious and miserable about you, if you go this morning, and, for my sake, Salome, if not for your own, remain here one day longer. I have not asked many things of you, and I trust you will not refuse this last request I may ever be allowed to make." She attempted to speak, but there came only a quiver across her mouth, and a sickly smile that flickered over the ghastly proud face, like the lying sunshine of Indian summer on marble cenotaphs. "Salome, you will, to oblige me, wait until Tuesday?" She shook her head, and mastered her weakness. "No, Dr. Grey; I must go at once. I take all the hazard." "Then you will find on the mantelpiece in my room, a paper containing directions for the treatment of your arm, which demands care and attention. I am sorry you are so obstinate, and, if I possessed the authority, I would forbid your departure."