"Mr. Ferrier is ill--very ill! Please go for the doctor! He is here--at
my house."
The figure in the carriage rose hurriedly. Lady Lucy was beside her.
"What is the matter?" She laid an imperious hand on the girl's arm.
"I think--he is dying," said Diana, gasping. "Oh, come!--come back at
once!"
Marsham was already in the carriage. The horse galloped forward. Diana
and Lady Lucy ran toward the house.
"In the garden," said Diana, breathlessly; and, taking Lady Lucy's hand,
she guided her.
Beside the dying man stood Sir James Chide, Muriel Colwood, and the old
butler. Sir James looked up, started at the sight of Lady Lucy, and went
to meet her.
"You are just in time," he said, tenderly; "but he is going fast. We
have done all we could."
Ferrier was now lying on the grass, his head supported. Lady Lucy sank
beside him.
"John!" she called, in a voice of anguish--"John--dear, dear friend!"
But the dying man made no sign. And as she lifted his hand to her
lips--the love she had shown him so grudgingly in life speaking now
undisguised through her tears and her despair--Sir James watched the
gentle passage of the last breaths, and knew that all was done--the play
over and the lights out.
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