The sick woman clasped her hands in an ecstasy of hope and thankfulness.
"Oh, Alec," she cried, "you promise? Then—he will come. I can be happy now. Quite happy—till you return."
But immediately Hendrie realized how he had committed himself. He saw ahead the added danger of failure. And in his moment of realization he rose abruptly from his seat on the bed. But he would not yield to his momentary weakness. His promise once given must be fulfilled. He must set about it at once. He knew that his desperate feelings at the sight of the sufferings of this woman he loved, had trapped him.
"I must go now, Mon," he cried, with an attempt at cheerfulness. "I must fulfill my promise. You see my going to Calford is lucky, for I believe our Frank is there. If he is I shall bring him back with me. Good-bye, my dearest. God bless you. Our Frank shall help you to get well."
"God bless you, Alec. You will come back to me—soon?" she cried appealingly.
The man stooped, and the woman's thin arms caught and held him in their embrace. Then, reluctantly, he moved away and passed from the room.
Beyond the door Phyllis was awaiting him. As he came out she raised a finger to her lips to enjoin silence, and led him down the corridor.
At the head of the stairs she turned, and her eyes were alight with excitement.
"I had to see you first, Mr. Hendrie," she said, in an excited undertone, as though fearful lest Monica might hear, even at that distance. "It's—it's about Frank. You know she's just all out to see him. She's dying—to see him. Well, I've had a letter from him. I'd written him, telling him he must come, and it's his answer. He—he says he's coming right away, and I've to go into Everton to meet him. I—had to ask you first. May he come—and see Monica? Will it hurt her? You see, I just guessed I'd write without saying a thing about it, and—and now he's coming."
A silent thankfulness went up from the millionaire's heart as he smiled down into the pretty, eager face before him.