It was the hour preceding midnight and Mrs. Montgomery had been
persuaded to take a few hours rest while Phillip Lawson took her
place beside the bedside.
Something in the wan face arrested the watcher's attention and
stooping closely down he saw that the man was trying to communicate
something that was on his mind.
"Is it anything that I know of," cried Phillip in almost desperate
tones; "anything that I can do for you?"
Mr. Verne gazed wildly upon him, then tried to raise his hand, but
he was unable for the task, and relapsed into his former state of
unconsciousness.
"I will make another trial," thought Phillip, "when he becomes
himself again. Poor man! whatever it may be I'm afraid the secret
will die with him," and the silent watcher was indeed sad at the
thought.
The young man's reverie was indeed a painful one. It had lasted for
more than an hour when he was aroused by a servant who now
approached him, bearing a tray upon which was a cup of delicious
coffee and some tempting cakes, which Mrs. Montgomery had
thoughtfully ordered ere she sought repose.
"Such women are never half appreciated," thought Phillip as he sat
over the contents of the tray wondering why it was that two sister
could be of such opposite nature; then he thought of the still great
difference between mother and child--Mrs.
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