Love for her father was the only affection she was capable of feeling now, but Hadly was asking nothing. He was giving all. She had a dim appreciation of his kindness, and thanked him several times. Each time he refused her thanks with an ardent declaration that his only object in life was to serve her always.
At last the awful journey was over. The train drew into the Grand Central and a taxi then took them hurriedly to the hospital.
Venna's calmness was even more pronounced as they approached the desk and asked for "John Hastings."
She scarcely breathed as the doctor took up the hospital phone.
Then the cold reply was brusquely given: "All right, you can go right up."
Silently they followed the orderly, Venna leading with a firm, light step.
As they entered the room where her father lay, Venna stood still and gazed with horror at what she saw. Was this her own beloved Daddy? There upon the couch lay a man with the pallor of death making more ghastly the two awful gashes on cheek and forehead.
The nurse attending held up a finger of silence and approached her kindly.
"Don't disturb him," she whispered. "He will doubtless awaken soon."
Approaching the bed noiselessly, Venna sat down upon the chair placed for her.