"That's it," he said weakly. "Now one more last favor; please send Aunt 'Phrony up as you go down. Tell her I want my clothes."
Miss Dabney became the trained nurse again in the turning of a leaf.
"You are not going to get up?" she said.
"Yes, I must; I'm due this minute at that meeting down yonder."
"Indeed, you shall do no such insane thing!" she cried. "What are you thinking of!"
"Listen!" he commanded. "My father has worked hard all his life, and he's right old now, Ardea. If I should fail him—but I'm not going to. Please send Aunt 'Phrony."
"I'm going to call your mother," she said firmly.
"If you do, you'll regret it the longest day you live."
"Then let me take the papers down to Mr. Norman for you."
He considered the alternative for a moment—only a moment. What an exquisite revenge it would be to make her the messenger! But he found he did not hate her so bitterly as he had been trying to since that soul-torturing evening on the cliff's edge.