“And I must forfeit that of mine, it seems, for withholding it so long,” sobbed the other, as, tottering, she turned to go.  “It is but just.”

“Stay—­do not go yet!” commanded Janet imperiously, her pride still keeping back her tears.  “I have not done.  I throw you back your father’s name, your father’s wealth, your sisterly recognition.  I want none of them,—­they are bought too dear! ah, God, they are bought too dear!  But that you may know that a woman may be foully wronged, and yet may have a heart to feel, even for one who has injured her, you may have your child’s life, if my husband can save it!  Will,” she said, throwing open the door into the next room, “go with her!”

“God will bless you for a noble woman!” exclaimed Mrs. Carteret.  “You do not mean all the cruel things you have said,—­ah, no!  I will see you again, and make you take them back; I cannot thank you now!  Oh, doctor, let us go!  I pray God we may not be too late!”

Together they went out into the night.  Mrs. Carteret tottered under the stress of her emotions, and would have fallen, had not Miller caught and sustained her with his arm until they reached the house, where he turned over her fainting form to Carteret at the door.

“Is the child still alive?” asked Miller.

“Yes, thank God,” answered the father, “but nearly gone.”

“Come on up, Dr. Miller,” called Evans from the head of the stairs.  “There’s time enough, but none to spare.”