I think--I should like to go to bed.' Bridget helped her to undress.

It was now nearly dark and she drew down the blinds.

When she looked again at Nelly, she saw her lying white and still, her wide eyes fixed on vacancy.
'I found a visitor downstairs,' she said, abruptly.

'It was Sir William Farrell.' Nelly shewed no surprise, or interest.

But she seemed to find some words mechanically.
'Why did he come ?' Bridget came to the bedside.
'He wants us to go and stay at his flat--their flat.