without present anxiety, or the sight of decay and disappointment.
Her only answer was a mute smoothing of his bowed shoulders, as she
said, 'If I could be of any use or comfort to poor Averil Ward, I
could go to-night. Mary is enough for Aubrey.'

'Not now, my dear. She can't stir from the boy, they are giving him
champagne every ten minutes; she has the nurse, and Spencer is
backwards and forwards; I think they will pull him through, but it is
a near, a very near touch. Good, patient, unselfish boy he is too.'

'He always was a very nice boy,' said Ethel; 'I do hope he will get
well. It would be a terrible grief to Aubrey.'

'Yes, I got Leonard to open his lips to-day by telling him that
Aubrey had sent him the grapes. I think he will get through. I hope
he will. He is a good friend for Aubrey. So touching it was this
morning to hear him trying to ask pardon for all his faults, poor
fellow--fits of temper, and the like.'

'That is his fault, I believe,' said Ethel, 'and I always think it a
wholesome one, because it is so visible and unjustifiable, that
people strive against it. And the rest? Was Henry able to see his
father or mother?'

'No, he can scarcely sit up in bed. It was piteous to see him lying
with his door open, listening. He is full of warm sound feeling,
poor fellow. You would like to have heard the fervour with which he
begged me to tell his father to have no fears for the younger ones,
for it should be the most precious task of his life to do a parent's
part by them.'