"He is threatened with choroiditis, an affection of the eyes that sometimes follows febrile diseases. So long as the trouble is confined to the outer regions of the choroid, it was not dangerous, but I feel it my duty to say to you that if it should attack the central field of vision it would be likely to result in gradual blindness. But he has many things in his favor and we will hope for the best. In the meantime, he should be under the care of a specialist. I do not feel competent to treat him. It was this that I was intending to say to you yesterday when the worst was forced upon you by your unfortunately overhearing the words between Mr. De Jarnette and myself."
He went on to say that he had tried to get Dr. Helsor, a Washington specialist, out to see him, but that he was ill and could not come. He had wanted to get expert advice before saying anything to alarm her, etc. Perhaps it might be a good plan to take him to Johns Hopkins to the hospital or even to Philadelphia. If she desired he would go with her and make arrangements for his admission. What did she think about it?
She felt that she could not give him an answer. Now that she was the sole arbiter of Philip's fortunes she was strangely loth to take upon herself the burden of decision. If she could only talk it over with—with Mrs. Pennybacker, she told herself weakly. It was Mrs. Pennybacker she wanted to take counsel with. In her inmost heart—the one we cannot delude—she knew it was Richard. Richard De Jarnette! The hot blood crimsoned her face at the shame of it.
In these weeks in the sick room she had fallen into the habit of leaning upon his judgment which was always calm and dispassionate. When she had tried to excuse this to the doctor he had replied in a matter-of-fact way that it was not unnatural nor to be regretted. In a case of severe illness the person closest to the patient was not usually the one that had the best judgment. She reminded herself often afterwards of this, saying that that was why she relied so on him. Now that he was gone she felt strengthless.
Judge Kirtley came out on the first train and walked over from the station to tell her the astounding news that Mr. De Jarnette had thrown up the case. He had been to his (Judge Kirtley's) office late the afternoon before to say that he desired to have the case settled out of court and was prepared to relinquish all claims to the child under the will now and hereafter.
"Did he tell you about Philip?"
"Philip? No. Nothing more than I have said. He seemed in great haste to get away, for some reason, and not inclined to talk. What is it about Philip? He's doing all right, isn't he?"
When he heard from her the story of the doctor's fears, and of Richard's renunciation of the child, his scorn and wrath knew no bounds.
"The cur!" he cried. "The cowardly cur!"
Then to his amazement Margaret turned upon him.