"No need for ceremony," he grunted. "Eat your meal, child. What the dev- er – what is wrong with you, Roger? You may not be affecting that animal's nerves, but you are doing mine no good."

"Sorry." Carlton pushed his plate away. "To be candid, Gruffstone, I have taken a certain liberty and I don't know how you will react. I hope you will not be offended."

"What have you done?" the doctor inquired calmly.

"I have summoned Sir Walter Bliss to see the Duchess."

Carlton dropped the words like bullets and looked as if he expected an explosion to follow. Instead, after a look of unconcealed astonishment, the doctor's face broke into a broad smile.

"Splendid, my boy, splendid! How did you persuade Honoria to see him? I have been trying for months."

"I have not yet told her. I thought she could not send him away after he had come so far on her account."

"That was well thought of." The doctor tugged thoughtfully at his mustache. "It never occurred to me. Well – fools rush in, if you will forgive me, my boy. I could not be more pleased." Seeing Marianne's bafflement, he explained, "Sir Walter is probably the best heart specialist in England. I am mightily relieved to have a second opinion, I can tell you. When does he come?"

"This afternoon. I learned from an article in the Times that he was to be in Edinburgh this week, so I sent a telegram. I have just now received the answer."

"Splendid, splendid," the doctor repeated. "Who knows, perhaps he will have good news for us. I am only a simple general practitioner; I could be wrong. I hope I am."

Carlton seemed to be cast into even greater gloom by this genial pronouncement. Marianne waited until the doctor had left, to prepare for the visit of the specialist; then she said, "I suppose you will not care to ride this afternoon."

"Not with Sir Walter expected. I wish to hear what he has to say."

"You have no objection if I go alone?"

"Suit yourself," was the ungracious reply.

The dignified butler, obviously confused by the unconventional division of the luncheon party, brought in the port. Carlton gestured for his glass to be filled, and Marianne left him with the decanter before him.

Thinking Henry might like to join her in a ride, she went to the schoolroom. Nanny, nodding by the fire, told her the boy was with his mother, so Marianne was forced to request the company of one of the grooms. The menace from Bagshot had been removed, but she had not forgotten the Duchess's warning about getting lost.

The presence of the manservant, trotting respectfully behind her, took some of the pleasure from the ride and she cut it short, returning by way of the village. If she hoped to catch a glimpse of the vicar she was disappointed; but she did see something that surprised her – the black-clad visitor whom Carlton had suspected of being Bagshot in disguise. As on the previous occasion, he was walking away from her. Marianne urged Stella into a trot, hoping to overtake the man and see his face, but before she could catch him up he turned into the inn and disappeared. So she returned to the castle.

The Duchess's carriage, waiting before the castle, made her wonder who was about to go on a journey before she realized that it must have been sent to fetch the famous medical man. Handing her reins to the groom and giving Stella an affectionate pat, she hurried in. She found Carlton in the library, pacing back and forth between the open door and the fireplace.

"What news?" she asked. "He has come, has he not? I saw the carriage -"

"He is with her now. I am waiting to catch him before he goes; he must return immediately to Edinburgh."

Marianne was tempted to join him in his agitated walk, but forced herself to take a chair.

"By the way," she remarked, "the gentleman who was staying at the Devenbrook Arms is still here. He was not Mr. Bagshot after all."

"I know. You were right in supposing that Bagshot would not venture into the neighborhood. The preliminary work was all done by his hired cutthroats; he did not come until the final hour."

His tone made it clear that he had nothing more to say on that subject, so Marianne did not break the silence again. It went on for quite some time before they heard footsteps and low voices, one that of Dr. Gruff-stone, the other unfamiliar.

Carlton bolted out the door without bothering to close it. Marianne remained where she was; she did not feel she had the right to intrude on such a meeting. However, she listened intently, and when she heard the front door open and close, she ran out.

Carlton was alone. He stood with his back toward her, but she did not need to see his face to know that the news had been bad. The droop of his shoulders, his hands clenched on the newel post, were eloquent enough.

She had not realized until then how much he had hoped for a reversal of Gruffstone's diagnosis. As she stood staring at Carlton, who had obviously not heard her approach, and wishing she dared comfort him, the front door opened and Gruffstone entered.

"I have seen Sir Walter off," he explained. "And thanked him again for coming so far."

"Then -" Marianne began.

Gruffstone shook his head. "He was kind enough to commend my medical knowledge. It was small comfort to me, I assure you. Excuse me; I must go to her now."

He went heavily up the stairs. Carlton straightened but did not turn, and something in the set of his shoulders told Marianne she had better not speak to him. So she went to her room and wept.

Later the Duchess summoned her, and Marianne was struck by the fact that of all the people in the house the dying woman seemed least concerned with her fate. The Duchess was, in fact, in a cheerful mood, which was explained when she remarked casually, "I have seen David. He does not seem to have aged at all, but then that is to be expected."

Rose, arranging the tea-things, dropped a saucer.

"Take yourself off, you clumsy creature," the Duchess said amiably. "After all these years, one would think…"

"You dreamed," Marianne said, as poor Rose stumbled toward the door.

"Oh, yes; that is the common term for such visions." After the door had closed she added rather irritably, "I find Rose a trial of late. If she is not dropping things, she is crying."

"She is devoted to you," Marianne said. "And, like the rest of us, she is deeply concerned -"

"But why? I am happier now than I have been for many years. If you could only have faith! Gruffstone particularly – he is a medical man, he of all people should be able to accept the fact that I must die sometime."

"But not now!" Marianne exclaimed. "You are willing yourself to die! You might live for months, years -"

"I don't want to," the Duchess said simply. "I want only one thing – the knowledge that David will be there to guide me over the threshold." Suddenly and alarmingly the look of peace faded from her face and was replaced by an expression of a most pitiful terror. "My faith is weak," she said rapidly. "I am afraid – I confess it. I know what awaits me, I believe in Paradise… but my body trembles in the fear of dissolution. If I could see David, feel his hand reaching out for me… You won't deny me that, Marianne? You could not be so cruel. Promise – promise me -"

In her agitation she struggled forward, and Marianne realized in horror that she was about to fall to her knees. She caught the thin, shaking shoulders and forced the Duchess back into her chair.

"I will promise anything you like. Anything. Be calm, I beg you. You have my word."

"Thank you." After a few seconds Marianne felt the old woman's rigid limbs relax.

"I will fetch Dr. Gruffstone," she said.

"No." The Duchess forced a smile. "I am better now. Horace can do me no good. You alone can help me. You have helped me."