“I never should have said it, even to Hannah—even to Hannah!”
“Never mind, Uncle Peter—you were always in your heart faithful to the poor Colonel,” Irene would try to comfort him, and again they would drop back into the gloomy silence.
As Dr. Coles came into the room, they greeted him eagerly, “Any change? How is he now?”
“About the same—but his pulse is fairly good. I think he will be coming around soon, perhaps—of course, there is no predicting for sure anything in cases like this—cases of any sort in fact. My opinion of doctors is not very great you know. They do their best but, when all is told, they are a feeble lot.”
“But their best is very wonderful, sometimes,” said Irene, “and Mary Louise has great faith in you.”
“Poor child, poor child! Are you sure her husband sailed on the Spokane, about ten days ago?”
“Yes, I am sure! Isn’t that what she told you?”
“Yes—but I hadn’t the courage to tell her something that she will have to know. I saw a late bulletin as I passed the newspaper office on my way up here and it said the Spokane had been signalling for help by wireless all during yesterday and that it is feared she has been wrecked. Of course, she may be all right by now, but the latest report is that there is no trace of her so far.”
“You mean Danny Dexter may be lost?” gasped Irene.
“Yes—lost! It may be a false alarm but I doubt it. Anyhow, we need not tell the poor little wife yet, not until there is something definite to tell her,” said the doctor sadly and Uncle Peter groaned aloud.