'I don't know,' said Sarah.
'Don't know! Where is he?' asked George.
'In the sitting-room; that's why I couldn't get at the telephone. They disconnected it to stop the noise. The doctors are with him,' replied Sarah, who looked white and shaken.
'How did it happen? Did he get burnt? Is there no one to tell me anything?' asked George in despair.
'I don't know. He was brought on a stretcher, and Uncle Howroyd came with him, and he and mother have gone into that room. I don't know any more than you; but, oh, I am glad you've come!' cried Sarah, bursting into tears.
'Come and sit down,' said George, putting his arm round his sister's shoulder. 'Some one will come out in a minute, I hope.'
It was William Howroyd who came. 'You here, my lad! That's right. You'll have to take the head of affairs now,' he said kindly but sadly.
'Is my father—dead?' asked George, with pale lips.
'No, no, not dead; but it's a stroke, and he won't be fit for business for some time. If I can help you I will; but it's a bad business, a very bad business. Well, my home is yours, as you know, and you must all stay here for the present. As for the future, why, you can stay here then if you will. It's not a mansion, but there's room enough for us all.'