"Oh, Maude, Maude," came like a groan from Frank, as he laid his hand on Maude's lips, while Arthur replied:
"Forgive him for what? He couldn't help being here. I sent for him. He did not keep Jerrie from her rightful position as my daughter. If he had, I could never forgive him. Why, I believe I'd kill him, or any other one who, knowing that Jerrie was my daughter, kept it from me."
He was gesticulating with both hands, and Jerrie, who had come in with him, took hold of them as they were swaying in the air and said to him softly:
"Father!"
The word quieted him, and with a gasp his mood seemed to change at once.
"Maude is very tired," Jerrie went on; "perhaps we'd better go now, and come again to-morrow."
"Yes, yes, that's best, child. I'm not fond of sick rooms, though I must say this is very free from smells," Arthur replied; then stooping down he kissed Maude and said to her as he arose to go:
"Don't worry about your father; he is my brother, and he was kind to Jerrie. I shan't forget that. Come, my daughter."
And putting his arm around Jerrie he left the room.