Dave was not there. Rob was very ill again; he had had a bad night, and Dave had spent it with him, Cyrus told me, with a weary frown on his face.
“I suppose Dave ought to be at his work,” I said, tentatively, not feeling quite sure what the frown meant, but observing, suddenly, that Cyrus had grown old and care-worn.
“There is not much work to do,” said Cyrus, with a sharp accent. “There is no fear that Dave will not do his share. But I think he allows Rob to impose upon him. There is a nurse to take the proper care, and Dave ought not to be robbed of his rest, night after night. Invalidism makes some people very selfish. I can see that Rob’s exactions weigh heavily on Dave.”
This tone of sympathetic interest in Dave was new for Cyrus. A sort of hard patience was the kindest tone he had taken with him, in my hearing, since his expulsion from college.
“Is Rob worse?” I asked.
“Yes,” he answered. “He suffers, poor fellow, and the suffering is wearing on his nervous system. The doctor says he mustn’t be crossed and they can’t do anything with him—no one but his father, at least. Rob is always afraid of him. His suffering is wearing on Dave, too, and that seems unnecessary. He manifests the most self-sacrificing devotion toward Rob.”
“Cy, sometimes I can’t believe that Dave was so bad,” I said, impulsively. “Would he have left Rob when he was so ill?”
“Oh, he did that, of course,” said Cyrus, with an impatient sigh. “The betting instinct carries everything before it. But he has behaved nobly here—nobly. There’s no denying that. His steady industry has had an effect on the men.” Cyrus spoke so heartily that I was tempted to reveal the secret; but I refrained, it was such a small secret and might only end in disappointment.
“Cyrus, of course he mustn’t do such work as this for long,” I said, obeying a sudden impulse. Cyrus looked at me, narrowing his near-sighted eyes.
“He isn’t likely to have it to do,” he said, slowly. And then he arose and shut the counting-room door, which I had left ajar and stood by the little cylinder stove, as if he were cold, although the April air was mild.