Indeed, it was the dog, which seemed distressed, that discovered her and led her to him.
This was Anthony's last outing, but he lived till Christmas Eve, his son's eighth birthday.

That morning the boy was brought into his room to receive some present that his father had procured for him, and warned that he must be very quiet.

Quiet, however, he would not be; his tumultuous health and strength seemed to forbid it.

He racketed about the room, teasing the spaniel which lay by the side of the bed, until the patient beast growled at him and even bit, or pretended to bite him.

Thereon he set up such a yell of pain, or anger, or both, that his father struggled from the bed to see what was the matter, and so brought on the haemorrhage which caused his death.
"I am afraid you will have trouble with that child, Barbara," he gasped shortly before the end.