"Ruffie often has feverish nights, but let the doctor see him by all means. Is his throat sore?" "I have not heard him complain of it." "Brenda will nurse him. She is accustomed to these feverish attacks of his. We'll hope it is nothing more." Justin went back to his boy. He felt that he could not leave him. Two hours later, the doctor arrived. Justin paced up and down in the passage outside Ruffie's room till the doctor had finished his examination. His face was haggard when the door opened and Dr. Forsyth joined him. "Is he all right? Is it anything serious?" "I am afraid," said the doctor gently, "that he will be our next patient." "He has taken it, then?" "I think so. The symptoms are that way." Justin said nothing. Now the blow had fallen, he seemed stunned for a time. Dr. Forsyth went on upstairs to see the little girls. When he came down he found Justin waiting for him on the terrace. "You'll pull him through, Forsyth? I can't tell you what he is to me." His voice choked. He turned abruptly away. "Oh, yes," the doctor said in his cheerful professional manner; "there's no reason why he should have it more severely than the little girls. They have done splendidly. I'll call to-morrow early." He was gone. And the following day left no room for doubt. The rash appeared, and Ruffie was too ill to take any notice of his father. Anstice, of course, at once came to him. She was thankful that Josie and Georgie no longer needed her. She and Brenda devoted themselves to Ruffie, whose temperature was up to an alarming height and kept them intensely anxious. Justin would not be shut out of the sick-room, but he could do little there. And as the days went on, Ruffie seemed to slip farther and farther into the Valley of the Shadow of Death. He was so frail that Anstice felt it would be impossible for him to pull through. She faced the doctor at last with a white face. "Dr. Forsyth, he is sinking. I feel he is. You don't think he will pull through?" "You know the old saying, 'While there is life, there is hope.' If he does not rally within an hour or two, the end will come." He was an old man and experienced with children. Anstice knew that he had given up hope. She said nothing, but her heart rose in passionate prayer to God to preserve the little life, if only for his father's sake. And then when the doctor had left, she went to Justin. He had seen Dr. Forsyth as he left the house and had heard his opinion. Anstice found him sitting before his writing-table in the smoking-room, his head bowed in his hands. She put her hand very gently upon his shoulder. He did not speak, but a low groan escaped him. Then suddenly he faced her with hard, despairing eyes. "If he is taken from us, my faith in God will go. It is tyrannical cruelty to spare the girls, and take him!"