"I am sorry! I am sorry if I have opened an old wound!" I said, quite helpless to remedy the damage I had done. I felt as one who had unwittingly trodden on a flower bed and crushed some violets. They bleed, even though you see no blood. I saw that their hearts were bleeding. But he spoke.
"We were 400 miles from a doctor. Baby took sick. If we could have had a doctor she would have been saved."
"Now Daddy, we do not know for certain about that," said the ever-conservative woman in her.
"There was not a Filipino doctor. She died in mother's arms!"
It was oppressively silent in that far-off mission home for a few minutes. I thought some one would sob aloud. It might have been any one of us, the way we all felt. I took hold of my cane chair with a grip that numbed my hands for a half hour afterwards.
CHAPTER VII
FLASH-LIGHTS OF FUN
All the "Peck's Bad Boys" of the world are not confined to American soil.
I found them all over the Far East; especially in China.