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It was at this point that Archie appeared in the door, and after
greeting his Uncle John and the Lady Jane with the grace and courtesy so
natural to him, he went to his father's bedside, where he stopped
suddenly, struck with an expression on the pinched, white face, which
earlier in the morning had not been there.
"Father," he cried, while a great fear took possession of him, "what is
it? Are you worse?"
"Yes, my son, weaker--that is all--and going from you very fast--before
the day is over, perhaps--and I want to talk to you, Archie, and to tell
you I have nothing to leave you but Stoneleigh, and that is mortgaged;
nothing but the small annuity on your life from your mother's little
fortune, which came too late to do her any good. Oh, Dora! who bore with
me so patiently, and loved me through all--shall I find her, I wonder?
She was so good, and I am so bad! And, Archie, my ruin has been the
gaming-table, which you must avoid as you would the plague. Death and
eternal ruin sit there side by side.


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