"How long have I to live, Doctor?" panted the dying man, when he rallied
somewhat from the attack that had struck him down.

"Not very long."

"Then I wish you to send for General Keith. I wish him to take my child
to my aunt, Miss Abigail Brooke."

"I will attend to it" said the Doctor.

"So long as she lives she will take care of her. But she is now an old
woman, and when she dies, God knows what will become of her."

"I will look after her as long as I live," said the Doctor.

"Thank you, Doctor." There was a pause. "She is a saint." His mind had
gone back to his early life. To this Dr. Balsam made no reply. "She has
had a sad life. She was crossed in love but instead of souring, it
sweetened her."

"I was the man," said the Doctor, quietly. "I will look after your
child."

"You were! I never knew his name. She never married."

He gave a few directions, and presently said: "My little girl? I wish to
see her. It cannot hurt me?"

"No, it will not hurt you," said the Doctor, quietly.