"I didn't want him to see Philip to-night--but Philip heard his ring--and sent down for him." They sat looking at each other, hand in hand--waiting--and listening.
Mrs.Gaddesden murmured a broken report of the few words of conversation which rose now, like a blank wall, between all the past, and this present; and Elizabeth listened, the diamonds in her hair and the folds of her satin dress glistening among the shadows of the half-lit room, the slow tears on her cheeks.
At last a step descended.

Anderson entered the room.
"He wants you," he said, to Elizabeth, as the two women rose.

"I am afraid you must go to him." The electric light immediately above him showed his frowning, shaken look.
"He is so distressed by your going ?" asked Elizabeth, trembling.
Anderson did not answer, except to repeat insistently-- "You must go to him.

I don't myself think he is any worse--but--" Elizabeth hurried away.

Anderson sat down beside Mrs.Gaddesden, and began to talk to her.
When his sister entered his room, Philip was sitting up in an arm-chair near the fire; looking so hectic, so death-doomed, so young, that his sister ran to him in an agony--"Darling Philip--my precious Philip--why did you want me?
Why aren't you asleep ?" She bent over him and kissed his forehead, and then taking his hand she laid it against her cheek, caressing it tenderly.
"I'm not asleep--because I've had to think of a great many things," said the boy in a firm tone.