"I expect it is tolling for Lady Oswald."
"Papa! For Lady Oswald?" She quite shrieked as she said it in her startled surprise.
"She is dead, child," he said, his subdued voice a contrast to hers.
"O papa! Was it the operation? Did she die under it?"
"Yes--in one sense. The operation was successfully accomplished, but--chloroform was exhibited, and she never rallied from it."
Sara stood still, her heart beating. It seemed that a hundred regrets were crowding upon her, a hundred questions. "O papa, why did you administer chloroform?" she exclaimed, scarcely knowing what she said.
For a single moment the temptation came over Dr. Davenal to tell his daughter the truth, and he had unclosed his lips to speak; but he checked himself in time. Sara was trustworthy--he knew that; but it was impossible to answer for chance or inadvertent words, even from her; and for Mark's sake it might be better to leave her in equal ignorance with the rest of the world.
"My dear," he said--and the words to her ear sounded strangely solemn--"I have striven to do the best always for my patients, under God. Had I been able to save Lady Oswald's life, I would have saved it."
"O yes yes, papa, I know that. We all know it. Did she die quite suddenly? Was she sensible of her state?"
"People who die under the influence of chloroform seldom know anything after inhaling it. She did not. Sara, it is a painful subject; I would rather not speak of it. I feel it greatly--greatly."
She quitted him and went upstairs to take off her things. When she came down again Dr. Davenal was in the dining-room, and the tray, as was usual when they dined early, was on the table with some slight refreshment.
"Not anything for me," said the doctor to his sister. "I cannot eat tonight."
He did not sit down: he was pacing the carpet with thoughtful, measured tread. Neal stole a glance at him from under the corner of his eyes.
"Shall I light the gas in your study, sir, tonight?"
"No. Yes, you may light one burner," the doctor added after a moment's pause.
"What's the matter, Richard?" asked Miss Davenal. "You seem cut up. Have you had a hard day's work today?"
"Do you know who it is that's dead? Very queer that the passing-bell should toll out at night!"