"Hu. Poor Uncle Archie! Then he tumbles over with a whack and dies in Hope's arms."
"What kills him? You never do half kill people, Ted. You take too much for granted."
"Conscience. No; Hu, that is, Sir James, shoots him."
"I remember now. I'd forgotten. I hope Hu's a safe shot."
"He couldn't hit a church, if he tried." Theodora giggled. "What's the matter, Hope?" For she saw Hope coming rapidly across the lawn towards them.
"Bad news, dear." Hope's eyes were full of tears. "Mamma has a letter from Butte, and Archie is in the hospital there, with typhoid fever."
"Hope! Not really?"
"Do they think he'll die?" Billy asked anxiously, with boyish bluntness.
Hope's tears began to fall on the letter in her hand.
"They say he's very ill, and that they felt it was best to write. Papa says typhoid is always uncertain, and he wants mamma to start West, to-night."