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Some one comes in with a lamp, and places it on a distant table, where its rays cannot distress the dying man. "I don't know that: Lilian Chetwoode made him welcome in her house last night," says Doatie, a little bitterly. "That is because Nicholas will insist on proving to every one he bears him no malice, and speaks of him persistently as his cousin. Well, he may be his cousin; but there is a limit to everything," says Violet, with a slight frown. "Mona, are you still there?" he says, with a return to consciousness: "did I dream, or did my father speak to me? How the night comes on!" He sighs wearily. "I am so tired,—so worn out: if I could only sleep!" he murmurs, faintly..