cramped and stiff from the long journey, and so numb that Jim the
guard had to lift me down to the porch. Miss Plinlimmon, red-eyed
and tremulous, opened the door to me, embraced me, and led me to the
little parlour.

"Is--is my father dead?" I asked, staring vacantly around the room,
and upon the table where she had set out a breakfast. She bent over
the urn for a moment, and then, coming to me, took my hand and drew
me to the sofa.

"You must be brave, Harry."

"But what has happened? And how did it happen? Was--was it sudden?
Please tell me, Plinny!"

She stroked my hand and shivered slightly, turning her face away
towards the window.

"We found him in the summer-house, dear. He was lying face downward,
across the step of the doorway, and at first we supposed he had
fallen forward in a fit. Ann made the discovery, and came running to
me in the kitchen, when she had only time to cry out the news before
she was overtaken with hysterics. I left her to them," went on Miss
Plinlimmon, simply, "and ran out to the summer-house, when by-and-by,
having pulled herself together, she followed me. By this time it had
fallen dusk--nay, it was almost dark, which accounts for one not
seeing at once what dreadful thing had happened. Your poor father,
Harry--as you know--used often to sit in the summer-house until quite
a late hour, but he had never before dallied quite so late, and in
the end I had sent Ann out to remind him that supper was waiting.