And Sydney, remembering that morning’s sermon, said “Yes,” with all her heart.
CHAPTER XIII
HUGH’S BATTLE
“What’s the matter, Hugh?”
Dr. Chichester flung the question suddenly into the deep silence which had fallen on himself and his son, as they sat together by the study fire on a cold night shortly after Christmas.
They had done a little talking.
Dr. Chichester had said it was a bitter night, and Hugh had assented. The doctor had remarked that a fire and a book were wonderfully soothing after a long day’s work, and Hugh had owned the fact. The doctor had opined that if the frost lasted, there would shortly be skating on the Serpentine. Hugh had agreed to that as well, but in so absent and spiritless a manner that his father plainly saw he took no interest whatever in the skating prospects at the present moment.
And after these attempts at conversation, silence had fallen on them, and the doctor, forgetful of the book upon his knee, closely scrutinised the young face before him, with its dark, sad eyes fixed on the glowing fire.
Hugh had been curiously silent ever since that visit to Donisbro’, his father thought to himself.