So earnest was the discussion that none of us heard the door open just as young Fawcett was saying in incisive tones: "No! I can see no hope.

The child can never walk again." There was a cry behind us.
"What! Never walk again! It's a lie!" There stood the Old Timer, white, fierce, shaking.
"Hush!" said the old doctor, pointing at the open door.

He was too late.
Even as he spoke, there came from the inner room a wild, unearthly cry as of some dying thing and, as we stood gazing at one another with awe-stricken faces, we heard Gwen's voice as in quick, sharp pain.
"Daddy! daddy! come! What do they say?
Tell me, daddy.

It is not true! It is not true! Look at me, daddy!" She pulled up her father's haggard face from the bed.
"Oh, daddy, daddy, you know it's true.

Never walk again!" She turned with a pitiful cry to The Duke, who stood white and stiff with arms drawn tight across his breast on the other side of the bed.
"Oh, Duke, did you hear them?
You told me to be brave, and I tried not to cry when they hurt me.