They had come across
the drenched meadows. In a transient gleam of moonlight she saw the
two figures striding towards her. Grange stopped a moment to fasten
the gate. The doctor came straight on.
She ran to the front door and threw it open. The wind blew swirling
all about her, but she never felt it, though her very lips were numb
and cold.
"It's too late!" she gasped, as he entered. "It's too late!"
Jim Ratcliffe took her by the shoulders and forced her away from the
open door.
"Go and put something on," he ordered, "instantly!"
There was no resisting the mastery of his tone. She responded to it
instinctively, hardly knowing what she did.
The _ayah's_ paroxysm of grief had sunk to a low moaning when she
re-entered her room. It sounded like a dumb creature in pain. Hastily
she dressed, and twisted up her hair with fingers that she strove in
vain to steady.
Then noiselessly she crept back to the nursery.
Daisy was still rocking softly to and fro before the ore, her piteous
burden yet clasped against her heart. The doctor was stooping over
her, and Muriel saw the half-eager, half-suspicious look in Daisy's
eyes as she watched him. She was telling him in rapid whispers what
had happened.
He listened to her very quietly, his keen eyes fixed unblinking upon
the baby's face.
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