As soon as Ralph was safely in bed Janie was despatched for a doctor.

His appearance alarmed Phebe more than ever. The cough was incessant, and occasionally thin streaks of blood were seen on the handkerchief.

"I wish you'd get me a red handkerchief," he said, in an irritable voice.

"A red handkerchief! Why? I haven't got one."

"Yes, a red handkerchief. And if you don't possess such a thing, you could get one, couldn't you? I shouldn't see that blood if I had a red handkerchief."

"I did not know exactly what you meant. I'll get you one at once out of the shop." It was the same old Ralph, always wanting to cover up trouble, never able to fairly and boldly face consequences.

The doctor p.r.o.nounced him in a dangerous condition, promised to send something at once to ease the cough, and in the morning would examine him more thoroughly. "But I am afraid he is not long for this world, Mrs. Waring," he said, as he bade her good-night; "he has had a very hard life lately, that is very evident."

Yes, she saw it all; Ralph had come back with a wrecked life--had come home to die!--the man who had gone forth to win a fortune to lay at her feet. How bitterly disappointed he must be! This thought gave an added tenderness to her voice, and made her still more patient. All the night long she watched by his side. Sometimes he slept a little, but when awake lay gloomily staring at the wall. He never uttered a word of tenderness or pleasure at being home. Only once did he refer to the past, and then it was to rip open the old wound.

"You've been very successful, Phebe."

"Yes; G.o.d has greatly helped me."

"No doubt; but still it was I who started you. I left you a good business, and in addition"--he had to pause to cough--"and in addition I had trained you well, so, after all, the success is mine as much as yours."

How could she contradict him? If he found comfort in this thought would it not be cruel to put forward any doubts? So after a pause she answered: "Yes."

"You don't seem very sure about it," with as much "snap" in the words as his breath would allow.

"I should not be where I am now, but for you," she answered gently, and that answer seemed to please him.

Then in a little while: "I must see the books in the morning. I shall soon be able to pick up the threads. There's a country branch, isn't there?"

"Two."

"Ah, that's good; I gave you that idea." Another fit of coughing. "I shall soon be all right; it's only an extra cold I've got. I'll soon be able to take the reins, and then----" But he was too weak to finish the sentence.

Early in the morning Phebe went to break the news to Jack. He was sitting up in bed rubbing his eyes. She sat down by his side putting her arm round his neck, bringing his sunny head to nestle on her shoulder.

"Jack, darling, I've something very particular to tell you."

"Have you, mummy? What is it? Has Janie got a sweetheart?"

"No, it is something very serious. You must not joke."

"Is it?"--lifting his head to look at her. "Are you in trouble? Who's been hurting you?" in his impetuous way.

"No one. Jack, your father has come home."

"Father!--come home!" in a bewildered voice. "Father come home! I say,"

and he began to get excited, "I must get up at once. Then he wasn't dead after all?"

"Stay a bit, Jack; he is very ill--and very poor." She knew the dreams the lad had cherished, of how his father would return, of the grand treasures he was to bring his boy.

"Poor!" he exclaimed; "then why didn't he write and tell you so? Why did he leave us all this time!"

"Jack," she answered gently, "I expect it was because he was so disappointed at not finding the fortune," and then she told him all the story of how she had found Ralph.

"Has he asked after me?"

"No, not yet. You see he is very ill."

"Not asked after me! And been here all night!" He was rather glad to have this fresh reason for anger.

"You must not take any notice of that. Remember how ill he is. Sick people cannot be expected to be thoughtful. Get dressed now, and then come and tell him you are glad he has come home."

"But I'm not glad--and I don't want to see him."

"Jack!"

"No, I don't; and I won't see him," bursting into angry tears. "What's the good of a father like that! To stay away from us and never write us a letter, and only come back 'cause he's ill!"

"It was I who brought him back, you must remember."

"What will all the fellows say! I've told them----"

"Never mind all that. You can tell them your father has had disappointments, and they will be sorry for him."

"Not they, they'll sneer. Oh, mummy, I am so wretched!"

She tried to soothe him, but the angry spirit had got hold of him too much. "Come and see him, there's a dear Jack. You will be sorry for him when you see how ill he is."

"No, I won't. He's been cruel to you--cruel!"

"Jack," standing straight up and speaking very firmly, "I am grieved, deeply grieved, at your unloving spirit. You had better get dressed and go at once to your aunt's and remain there till you have a more forgiving spirit. How could I tell your father that you refuse to see him!"

It was the first time there had been a cloud between them. Each felt it keenly. Phebe went away with a heavy heart. The burden had more than doubled during that quarter of an hour. How gladly she would have entered the Golden Gate just then! It seemed as if now both husband and son had failed her. Entering the sick-room her eyes fell on the silver star, and the old motto came again to mind: "We rely on Thee." "I do,"

she murmured, "G.o.d is with me; He is working all things right."

"Nanna," exclaimed Jack, when he got downstairs, "I can't find my cap."

His eyes were too full of tears to see it.

"Well, you don't want your cap before you have your breakfast."

"I don't want any breakfast."

"Don't want any breakfast! What nonsense! Where are you off to?"

"To aunty's; mummy said I must go at once."

"Mummy did not mean you to go without your breakfast. Of course she will want your aunty to know quickly of your father's return; but there's not so much hurry you cannot have your breakfast."

He had been trying hard to keep back the tears, but could not succeed.