"Yes," said the other, "Daisy."
They sat for a full minute gazing at each other: she at a well-filled
face and waist-coat; he at a trembling skeleton.
"Well?" said he, suddenly; "what do you want?"
"Nothing much," she replied. "I'm dying, you know, Robbie."
"What's the matter?" asked he.
"Consumption."
"Humph! It's been a long time. What have you been doing?"
"I've been living up north--in Albany. I took another name, you know, as
soon as I left New York. There's a child, Robbie."
"Oh!" exclaimed the other. "Sure enough! A boy?"
"No, a girl."
"Humph! Must be--let's see--twelve years old now."
"Thirteen, Robbie. That's what I've come to see you about."
"So I guessed. Is she here--in New York?"
"No; she's up in Albany--with some kind people. I couldn't bear to bring
her; but I--I--"
The woman stopped and gazed into his eyes a moment. Then she went on
swiftly, stretching out her lean arms to him. "Do something for her,
Robbie, won't you? That's what I want. I'm not for this world long, and
I can't help her, but you can. I've led a hard life, but she hasn't an
idea of it; she has the locket you gave me, but I've kept the secret
from her, and she doesn't even know her father's name. I've never
bothered you, Robbie; but do for her what you might have done for me."
"I imagine the old gentleman did pretty well by you, didn't he?" said
the other in a matter-of-fact way.
"I'm not complaining," said she. "Only promise you'll find her and do
something for her. It won't hurt you--do promise me, do."
The woman's voice quivered, and she leaned forward in the chair,
steadying her shaking form. The other, always a kind-hearted man, was
touched. "I will, Daisy," he said, "I will."
"You promise me?" gasped the woman.
"Yes, I promise you."
All right," said she, starting to rise. "That's all I want. You won't
have any trouble in finding her. Her name--her--"
And then suddenly she staggered. She lurched backward, grasping at the
chair, and turned white, a horrible sound coming from her throat. The
man leaped forward and caught her. She lay limp in his arms. He shouted
for help, and when the butler came, sent him on the run for a cab.
"Take her around the corner to the hospital," he commanded.
So they bore out the gasping form; and Mr. Robert van Rensselaer went
slowly and thoughtfully upstairs. "Devilish annoying," he mused. "How
shall I find the girl after that?"
When the butler came back he inquired anxiously. "She was dead before we
got there, sir," said the man.