"I rather think so!" A pleased smile illuminated the doctor's grave face. "She's just about the best ever!"
"I hope you will be happy," Jackson continued conventionally.
"Well, we expect to—don't see why we shouldn't. I guess we know pretty much what's to be found on both sides, and won't make ourselves uncomfortable looking for what ain't there."
Venetia came down the stairs very quietly, her exuberance all gone, and as she entered the room she was still wiping away the traces of tears.
"Poor little Powers!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Jack! I am terribly sorry."
"What's the matter?" Coburn demanded.
"It's pneumonia, poor little man!"
Jackson's lip trembled beneath his mustache, as he murmured to himself:—
"Yes, I supposed it would be. It's as tough as it well could be, for her!"
"I know he'll come through,—he must!" Venetia exclaimed helplessly, and added in a burst of admiration, "That trouble couldn't happen to Helen—it just couldn't! She's so splendid, Jack! It's a big thing to know there are such women about. She's holding him up there now, with a smile on her face!"