She went with Dr. Jim to the surgery when breakfast was over, and sat down alone in the consulting-room to wait for him.  He usually started on his rounds at ten o’clock, but it wanted a few minutes to the hour and the motor was not yet at the door.  She sat listening for it, hoping that no one would appear to detain him.

The morning was bright, and the wind had fallen considerably.  Through the window she watched the falling leaves as they eddied in sudden draughts along the road.  She looked through a wire screen that gave rather a depressing effect to the sunshine.

Suddenly from some distance away there came to her the sound of a horse’s hoof-beats, short and hard, galloping over the stones.  It was a sound that arrested the attention, awaking in her a vague, apprehensive excitement.  Almost involuntarily she drew nearer to the window, peering above the blind.

Some seconds elapsed before she caught sight of the headlong horseman, and then abruptly he dashed into sight round a curve in the road.  At the same instant the gallop became a fast trot, and she saw that the rider was gripping the animal with his knees.  He had no saddle.

Amazed and startled, she stood motionless, gazing at the sudden apparition, saw as the pair drew nearer what something within her had already told her loudly before her vision served her, and finally drew back with a sharp, instinctive contraction of her whole body as the horseman reined in before the surgery-door and dismounted with a monkey-like dexterity, his one arm twined in the bridle.  A moment later the surgery-bell pealed loudly, and her heart stood still.  She felt suddenly sick with a nameless foreboding.

Standing with bated breath, she heard Dr. Jim himself go to answer the summons, and an instant later Nick’s voice came to her, gasping and uneven, but every word distinct.

“Ah, there you are!  Thought I should catch you.  Man, you’re wanted—­quick!  In heaven’s name—­lose no time.  Grange was drowned early this morning, and—­I believe it’s killed Daisy.  For mercy’s sake, come at once!”

There was a momentary pause.  Muriel’s heart was beating in great sickening throbs.  She felt stiff and powerless.

Dr. Jim’s voice, brief and decided, struck through the silence.  “Come inside and have something.  I shall be ready to start in three minutes.  Leave your animal here.  He’s dead beat.”

There followed the sound of advancing feet, a hand upon the door, and the next moment they entered together.  Nick was reeling a little and holding Jim’s arm.  He saw Muriel with a sharp start, standing as she had turned from the window.  The doctor’s brows met for an instant as he put his brother into a chair.  He had forgotten Muriel.

With an effort she overcame the paralysis that bound her, and moved forward with shaking limbs.

“Did you say Blake was—­dead?” she asked, her voice pitched very low.