He whispered this as he pointed to the bed where the doctor was lying.

"The boy is getting well," answered the parson, in a low voice. "He had a
large dose of antitoxine and it is beginning to show its effect."

"Ah? Just so," said Daddy, weakly.

Then he looked around the room again, quite helplessly.

"Is there anything that I could do?" he asked in a general way.

"Nothing, Daddy," I said. "Thank you ever so much for coming, but there
is nothing you can do now. I would go home if I were you. I promise that
I will return in time for supper."

Then Daddy looked around again, as if all his habitual splendid assurance
and decisiveness of manner had forsaken him. After this he tiptoed his
way to the door, outside of which Susie was waiting. I followed him,
because I knew he would feel better if I just put my hand on his arm for
a moment and assured him that I was feeling perfectly well.

The girl pointed out at sea.

"It's a-comin' on dreadful foggy," she said, gloomily.

Daddy and I looked at one another, and we stared at the dark pall that
was sweeping in, raw and chilly. Of course we at once knew its
significance. It must surely detain the _Snowbird_ on its return journey.