"His trouble has turned his brain.

But he will think better of it." At that moment the nurse came hurrying in and whispered something in his ear.

My father's face turned deadly pale.

He clutched at the table to support himself, then staggered from the room.

My mother was dying! It was some days afterwards, I do not know exactly how long, that my father took me by the hand and led me upstairs into the big room which had been my mother's bedroom.