There was a further improvement in the patient next morning, and Allan spent the greater part of the day beside his father's bed. There was to be very little conversation; but Allan was told he might read aloud, provided the literature was of an unemotional character. So at his father's request Allan read Chaucer, and the quaint old English verse, with every line of which the patient was familiar, had a soothing and a cheering influence on the tired nerves and brain. There was progress again the day after, and the physician and local watch-dog expressed themselves more than satisfied. The patient might come downstairs on Sunday--might have an airing on the sunniest side of the garden, should there be any sunshine on Monday; but everything was to be done with precautions that too plainly indicated his precarious condition. "Do you take a more hopeful view than you did the other night?" Allan asked the physician, after the consultation. "Alas! no. The improvement is greater than I expected; but the substantial facts remain the same. There is deep-seated mischief, which may culminate fatally at any time. I should do wrong to conceal the nature of the case--or its worst possibilities--from you. It is best you should be prepared for the end--for Lady Emily's sake especially, in order that you may lighten the blow for her." "And the end is likely to come suddenly?" "Most likely--better perhaps that it should so come. Your father is prepared for death. He is quite conscious of his danger. Better that the end should be sudden--if it spare him pain?" "Yes, better so. But it is a hard thing. My father is not forty-eight years of age--in the prime of life, with a fine intellect. It is a hard thing." "Yes, it is hard, very hard. It seems hard even to me, who have seen so many partings. I think you ought to spare your mother as much as you can. Spare her the agony of apprehension; let her have her husband's last days of sunshine and peace. But it is best that you should know. You are a man, and you can suffer and be strong." "Yes, I can suffer. He seemed so much better this morning. Might he not go on for years, with the care which we shall take of him?" "He might--but it is scarcely probable." "We were to have had a young lady visitor here to-day," said Allan, with some hesitation, "the lady who is to be my wife. Her visit has been postponed on account of my father's illness; but I am very anxious that she should know more of my father and mother, and I have been wondering if next week we might venture to have her here. She is very gentle and sympathetic, and I know her society would be pleasant to my father." "I would not risk it, Mr. Carew, if I were you." "You think it might be bad for my father?"