There is some reason to believe that the late John Senior had not regarded these visitations with more favor than did his son; there were some that did not hesitate to say that his end had been hastened by them and by the semiannual house-cleaning. Mrs. Upjohn was considered a notable housekeeper. "She takes it hard," he had said to Hen's father in an unguarded moment of confidence. Hen's father had laughed. Hen's mother was not a notable housekeeper. John Senior had sighed. At that time there was but one club in Whitby. He was not a member of that club. Such men as Hugh Morton and Gerrit Torrington were members; even John Hazen was said to be a member, although he was never at the club-rooms. So even that solace was denied to John Senior. He couldn't stay at Hen's house all the time either; and, there seeming to be no other way of escape, he up and had a stroke and died in two hours. At least, so rumor ran, the connection between cause and effect being of rumor's making. I have no wish to contradict it. I have no doubt that I should have wanted to do as John Senior had done. Very possibly Patty had some such wish. The two weeks of Letty were now up and the end was not in sight. She and Mrs. Upjohn sat in Mrs. Upjohn's sewing-room, which was strewn with unfinished skirts and waists and scraps of cloth. Letty sewed rapidly on the skirt; Mrs. Upjohn sewed slowly--very, very slowly--on something. It really did not matter what. If the completion of Mrs. Upjohn's clothes had depended upon Mrs. Upjohn's unaided efforts she would never have had anything to wear. "Where's Patty gone, Alicia?" asked Letty, a thread between her teeth. "Hospital?" Mrs. Upjohn stopped sewing. "Yes," she replied in her deliberate way. "I believe her father is worse. She got a message this morning before you came, and I think it was unfavorable, to judge by her face." "Land!" said Miss Lambkin. "I guess he's going to die. He's a pretty old man. Eighty, if he's a day, would be my guess." Mrs. Upjohn nodded. "Just eighty." "Pretty good guess, I call it." Miss Lambkin laughed. "I thought he must be pretty sick, or Patty wouldn't be out of the house as soon as ever breakfast was over and not turn up again until dinner-time. Then, as like as not, she'd be gone the whole afternoon. I hear he's got pneumonia." Mrs. Upjohn nodded again. "And I hear," Letty continued, "that he got it getting chilled and wet the night of the fire. 'T was an awful cold night, and he would stay around the house and try to tell the firemen what they sh'd do. Of course, they couldn't help squirting on him some." "I hope," said Mrs. Upjohn, "that they didn't mean to."