"A stroke of apoplexy—the sudden shock of discovering all this." Jeff and Camilla started forward with one impulse of horror. "Rita and Aunt Caroline were with him, and Rita had told him the truth—the doctors are there—he has recovered consciousness, but his left side is paralyzed, completely paralyzed."
Jeff sank heavily in a chair and buried his face in his hands.
"What do the doctors say?" asked Camilla anxiously.
"That he's very sick—that's all. Nobody can tell. I've wired Chicago for a specialist. We can only wait and hope. It's pretty desperate—I know that. He's an old man—and he's grown older lately."
Cort stopped speaking and walked to the window, while Camilla watched him pityingly. He wasn't like the old Cort she used to know, and yet there was something inexpressively appealing in his gentleness which reminded her of the moods in him she had liked the best. She glanced at Jeff. His head was still buried in his hands, and he had not moved. But Camilla knew that this startling revelation was causing a rearrangement of all Jeff's ideas. In that moment she prayed that Jeff's bitterness might be sweetened—that the tragedy which had suddenly stalked among them might soften his heart to pity for the old man who was his father and his enemy.
Cortland turned and spoke with an effort.
"Will you go back with me, Jeff? When he first recovered consciousness he spoke your name. He has been asking for you ever since. He wants——"
Jeff's eyes peered above his trembling fingers.
"He asked—for me?" he said hoarsely.
"Yes—he wants to see you."