He searched for something definite. What could he
do to prove to his daughter his real interest in her work? Presently he
remembered Johnny Geer, the cripple boy whom he had liked, and at once he
began to feel himself back again upon known ground. Instead of millions
here was one, one plucky lad who needed help. All right, by George, he
should have it! And Roger told his daughter he would be glad to pay the
expense of sending John away for the summer, and that in the autumn perhaps
he would take the lad into his office.
"That's good of you, dearie," Deborah said. It was her only comment, but
from the look she gave him Roger felt he was getting on.
* * * * *
One evening not long afterwards, as they sat together at dinner, she rose
unsteadily to her feet and said in a breathless voice,
"It's rather close in here, isn't it? I think I'll go outside for a while."
Roger jumped up.
"Look here, my child, you're faint!" he cried.
"No, no, it's nothing! Just the heat!" She swayed and reeled, pitched
suddenly forward. "Father! Quick!" And Roger caught her in his arms. He
called to the maid, and with her help he carried Deborah up to her bed.
There she shuddered violently and beads of sweat broke out on her brow.
Her breath came hard through chattering teeth.
"It's so silly!" she said fiercely.
But as moments passed the chill grew worse. Her whole body seemed to be
shaking, and as Roger was rubbing one of her arms she said something to him
sharply, in a voice so thick he could not understand.
Pages:
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126