"The one telling you I was—here."
The boy shook his head. "I got Ballantine's cable, and took the next boat."
"I didn't know Ballantine cabled," said Medfield thoughtfully.
"It came ten days ago—the thirtieth, wasn't it—just as I was starting for Norway. I'm pretty glad it didn't miss me!"—They sat quiet a minute. Then the boy looked at him. "You're looking fine, sir!"
"I'm all right! Doing splendidly!"
He felt suddenly that he could let his pains go. The house across the town was not so empty, after all. He had a sudden vision of Julian running up the long stairs—two at a time—and he looked at him happily.
The boy leaned forward. His eye fell on the black-edged card; he looked at it and smiled and half reached out a hand, incredulous.
"How is—" He hesitated. He had always been afraid of his father. But the man on the pillows was, somehow, a different sort of father; he leaned forward with a swift twinkle at the card.
"How is the—widow?" he asked.
"Very well, I suppose," said Medfield. "It is some time since I saw her." He spoke a little formally. But his heart leaped at the touch of comradeship.