"Rupert," she said, "won't you stay to tea?"
"Thank you, Milly, not to-night," he answered. "I have already declined a warm invitation from Charlie." And with a hasty "Good-by" he hurried away.
Mildred thought her husband's face unusually grave, even troubled, as he came into the sitting-room, and a sudden fear assailed her.
"Charlie," she cried, her cheek paling, "what—what was Rupert consulting you about?"
"Don't be alarmed, Milly, love," he answered, taking his boy upon one arm and putting the other about her waist.
"I have thought for some time that Rupert was growing thin and haggard," she said brokenly, tears filling her eyes, and—"O Charlie, I have often noticed, and heard it remarked, that one death in a family is apt to follow closely upon another."
She ended with a sob, laying her head on his shoulder.
"Don't ky, mamma," cooed little Percy, patting her cheek; "oo baby boy tiss oo, make oo all well."
She lifted her head, returned the caresses lavished upon her by both husband and child, then asked earnestly and half pleadingly, "Won't you tell me if—if Rupert is seriously ill?"