"'
'What,' I asked, 'could be the cause of this illness?'
The good woman gave me an odd look, shook her head, and murmured that the
reason was not far to seek.
'Did she think,' I asked, 'that disappointment might have something to do
with it?'
Why, of course she did. For a long time the poor lady had been all but at
the end of her strength, and _this_ came as a blow beneath which she sank.
'Your nephew and I have talked about it,' I said. 'He thinks that Mr.
Christopherson didn't understand what a sacrifice he asked his wife to
make.'
'I think so too,' was the reply. 'But he begins to see it now, I can tell
you. He says nothing but.'
There was a tap at the door, and a hurried tremulous voice begged the
landlady to go upstairs.
'What is it, sir?' she asked.
'I'm afraid she's worse,' said Christopherson, turning his haggard face to
me with startled recognition. 'Do come up at once, please.'
Without a word to me he disappeared with the landlady. I could not go away;
for some ten minutes I fidgeted about the little room, listening to every
sound in the house. Then came a footfall on the stairs, and the landlady
rejoined me.
'It's nothing,' she said. 'I almost think she might drop off to sleep, if
she's left quiet.
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