“If it had been that, he’d have told me. Your father is always justified in his own eyes.” “What am I to do about Roddy?” “We must just wait.” “Here’s Jack! Well?” “He’s having a bath as hot as he can bear it. All he said was: ‘This is the first thing you do when you go in, and the first thing you do when you come out--symmetrical, isn’t it?’ I’ve got to take him a cup of coffee. It’s really too thick! The servants can’t help knowing that a Dr. Raider who gets into the bath the moment he comes to call must be our father.” “It’s comic.” “Is it? He doesn’t show a sign of shame. He’ll call it from the house-tops. I thought, of course, he’d go abroad.” “We all thought that.” “If he were down in the mouth, one could feel sorry for him. But he looks as pleased as Punch with himself. And it’s such a beastly sort of crime--how am I to put it to Mabel? If I just say he’s been in prison, she’ll think it’s something even worse. Mother, do insist on his going at once. We can tell the servants he’s an uncle--who’s been in contact with smallpox.” “_You_ take him the coffee, Mother--oh, you can’t, if he’s to be an uncle! Jack, tell him nobody here knows, and mother can’t stand it; and hurry up! It’s half-past six now.” The son passed his fingers through his brushed-back hair; his face looked youthful, desperate. “Shall I?” Mrs. Raider nodded. “Tell him, Jack, that I’ll come out to him, wherever he likes to go; that I always expected him to arrange that; that this is--too difficult----” She covered her lips with her hand. “All right, Mother! I’ll jolly well make him understand. But don’t launch out about it to the servants yet. Suppose it’s we who have to go? It’s his house!” “Is it, Mother?” “Yes; I bought it with his money under the power of attorney he left.” “Oh, isn’t that dreadful?” “It’s _all_ dreadful, but we must consider _him_.” The girl shook back her fuzzy hair. “It does seem rather a case of ‘coldly received.’ But father’s always been shut up in himself. He can’t expect us suddenly to slobber over him. If he’s had a horrible time, so have we.” “Well, shall I go?” “Yes, take him the coffee. Be quick, my dear boy; and be nice to him!” The son said with youthful grimness: “Oh, I’ll be nice!” and went. “Mother, don’t look like that!” “How should I look? Smiling?” “No, don’t smile--it’s like _him_. Cry it off your chest.” 2 § Late--299 was sitting in the bath, smiling through steam and the smoke of his cigarette at his big toe. Raised just above the level of the water, it had a nail blackened by some weight that had dropped on it. He took the coffee-cup from his son’s hand. “For two years and nine months I’ve been looking forward to this--but it beats the band, Jack.” “Father--I--ought----” “Good coffee, tobacco, hot water--greatest blessings earth affords. Half an hour in here, and--spotless, body and soul!” “Father----!” “Yes; is there anything you want to add?” “We’ve--we’ve been here two years.”