The doctor looked at her sharply.

She nodded a silent answer, as she opened a small, flat, leather case.

With his fingers still on his patient's wrist, the physician spoke a word of instruction; and, in a moment, the nurse placed a hypodermic needle in his hand.
As the doctor gave the instrument, again, to his assistant, a quick step sounded in the hall outside.
The patient turned her head.

Her eager eyes were fixed upon the door; her voice--stronger, now, with the strength of the powerful stimulant--rang out; "My boy--my boy--he is here! George, nurse, my boy is here!" The door opened.

A young man of perhaps twenty-two years stood on the threshold.
The most casual observer would have seen that he was a son of the dying woman.