"I am, Aunt Pen. Oh! here's father!"
"It is very kind of you to come," Mr. Barton said, as he shook hands with his aunts.
"Can we do anything in any way?" Miss Selina asked, her tone full of genuine sympathy.
"No, I think not, thank you. The doctors are in the library discussing their case. I fear there is a very slight hope this time. The poor little fellow-seems to have no strength left."
"Oh, dear! I am so sorry. How is your wife?"
"Bearing up bravely. She will not break down whilst Jack wants her."
"Father!" cried Theodore, in an awestruck whisper. "Do you mean that you think Jack will die?"
"I cannot say, my son. We shall know better what to think when we hear what the doctors have to say. Run away to the nursery now, Theodore, like a good boy."
Theodore obeyed, and spent the rest of the day most unhappily. He heard the doctors leave, and listened anxiously to the report Jane brought him that they thought Jack very dangerously ill, but it was possible he might rally again if his strength held out. To this hope, slight though it was, Theodore clung. He wandered aimlessly about the house and grounds, questioning everyone he came across:
"You think Jack will get better, don't you?"