From Eliza Billy learned then that Mr. William
was there, but not Mr. Bertram. They had not
been able to reach Mr. Bertram, or Mr. Cyril.

Billy never forgot the look of reverent adoration
that came into Pete's eyes as she entered the
room where he lay.

``Miss Billy--my Miss Billy! You were so
good-to come,'' he whispered faintly.

Billy choked back a sob.

``Of course I'd come, Pete,'' she said gently,
taking one of the thin, worn hands into both her
soft ones.

It was more than a few minutes that Pete lived.
Four o'clock came, and five, and he was still with
them. Often he opened his eyes and smiled.
Sometimes he spoke a low word to William or
Billy, or to one of the weeping women at the foot
of the bed. That the presence of his beloved
master and mistress meant much to him was
plain to be seen.

``I'm so sorry,'' he faltered once, ``about that
pretty dress--I spoiled, Miss Billy. But you
know--my hands--''