"I was afraid so--"

"What!"

"McKay isn't dead! It's another patient. I was sure somebody here
had made a mistake."

Miss Erith swayed slightly, steadied herself with a desperate effort
to comprehend what the voice was telling her.

"There was a mistake made last night," continued Miss Dalton.
"Another patient died--a similar case. When I came on duty a few
moments ago I learned what had occurred. The young man in whom you
are interested is conscious this morning. Would you care to see him
before he is discharged?"

Miss Erith said, unsteadily, that she would.

She had recovered her self-command but her knees remained weak and
her lips tremulous, and she rested her forehead on both hands which
had fallen, tightly clasped, on the table in front of her. After a
few moments she felt better and she rang up her D. C., Mr. Vaux, and
explained that she expected to be late at the office. After that she
got the garage on the wire, ordered her car, and stood by the window
watching the heavily falling snow until her butler announced the
car's arrival.

The shock of the message informing her that this man was still alive
now rapidly absorbed itself in her reviving excitement at the
prospect of an approaching interview with him. Her car ran