Jim Coates and his wife were dumb with surprise. When the meaning of it all dawned upon them, with the instinct of true gentle-people they crept quietly downstairs.
Phebe bent and kissed Ralph on the brow. "I'll leave you now, dear," she said, "just for a little while. I must go home and arrange for your coming. I will not be long, and if we roll you up well in blankets and drive in a closed cab the journey will not harm you." His only answer was a nod, but that was better than a refusal.
She walked home like one in a dream. Stephen was there waiting to ask her some question about the garden scheme. He was talking to Nanna.
Almost abruptly Phebe broke in upon them. Her face was very white, she was trembling all over, and could scarcely speak. Nanna rushed to her, thinking she would fall before she reached a chair. It was Stephen who gently placed a seat near, and held his arm round her as Nanna stooped to loosen her boots.
"Poor dearie, you're quite done up!" said Nanna, but she knew all the time the shadow had fallen.
"I've found Ralph," she whispered. "I want you to light a fire upstairs—I am going to fetch him home in a cab."
Stephen withdrew his arm and caught hold of the chair-back to steady himself; the room seemed to swim before him.
"Yes," was all Nanna answered.
"Did you know?" gasped Phebe.
"Yes."