"As to the final outcome of the illness? I am afraid so. Not hopeless as to prolongation of life. Absolute recovery may be impossible, but these cases often last on indefinitely." "With care—" "Yes; that is essential." "What kind of care?" "I have told you already, in a measure. A quiet life, free from exertion and anxiety; if he can have this—" "One would say he had it already." The negative movement of Dr. Duncan's head was decided. "My father is naturally inclined to worry himself about unimportant things, perhaps; but—" "He must not worry himself. Every kind of worry must be kept at a distance. His own instinct will tell him often what to avoid; and that instinct must be obeyed. Fulvia did wrongly this morning, forcing upon him a subject from which he shrank. She might not know any reason for his shrinking; but he knew that he could not bear it, and we have seen the result." "You can give us no hope that by-and-by he may be in a better state than now?" "Yes, very possibly. He has been brought to his present state by long pressure of worry. No doubt about that," in reply to Nigel's surprised look. "Your father has gone about for months under a heavy burden." "Since when?" "Soon after you left England, if not before. I think I was particularly struck with it about last Christmas. He has had a look of trouble more or less for years; but not to the same extent. For months he has been like one under a heavy cloud, unable to rise above it." "What cloud?" Nigel seemed bewildered. "That is the question." "One would say there was hardly a man in Newton Bury with less to worry him than Browning has," remarked Mr. Carden-Cox. "But—" The "but" was significant. Dr. Duncan cleared his throat, and looked at Nigel, who was studying them both. "I am not sure that you do not know more about the matter than I do," said Nigel. "I have been away for a year, you see, and before that—" "It did not exist to the same extent before that." "If it had, I might not have seen." "No; you had not reached an observant age. But since you returned—" "I have noticed worry and uneasiness—a burden or cloud, as you say. My father never seems at rest. There is a kind of unhappy looking forward, expecting trouble to come." Nigel spoke slowly, weighing his words. "Now and then I have fancied it to be connected with money. Fulvia says he is always talking of expenses, and the fact that he objects to college for me—" "Fudge!" said Mr. Carden-Cox. "I should have thought my father's income equal to that strain, certainly. He made no difficulty about my trip." "I took care that he should not." Nigel failed to catch the muttered sentence. "Of course he has had the use of Fulvia's money, to some extent; and he may have been looking forward to losing—" Nigel stopped short. There was an odd click of Mr. Carden-Cox's tongue against the roof of his mouth.