Her uncle--there was the trouble. Foster Townsend was to blame. He was a sly, scheming old hypocrite, just as Bob had declared him to be. He had been sending her abroad just to separate them and then, after she told him that he--Bob--was going also, he had trumped up the transparent excuse for keeping her in Harniss. Esther should realize that this was precisely what had happened. And, too, she must realize that if he--Bob again--did go alone, then Foster Townsend’s underhand scheme would be working just exactly as he hoped. Surely it was obvious enough. She must see through it; she would, just as soon as she considered it calmly and deliberately. He was surprised when he drove into the yard, to find the windows of his grandfather’s room alight and to see the Denboro doctor’s horse and buggy standing by the door. The Cook housekeeper met him when he entered. Mr. Cook’s cold had grown suddenly worse, she told him, and the doctor seemed somewhat alarmed. “You had better go right up, Bob,” she said. “Mr. Cook’s been askin’ for you every other minute for the last two hours. He’s frightened about himself--you know how he is when there’s anything the matter with him--and he won’t lay still or keep from frettin’ unless you are there.” Bob stood watch beside his grandfather’s bed until the old gentleman at last fell asleep. Dodging the questions of the querulous patient was the hardest part of the vigil. Elisha Cook was anxious to know where his grandson had been, why he kept going away and leaving him all alone like this--to die, for all he knew--and if he intended to keep on doing it until he went off to Europe and left him to die or not, just as it happened. Bob promised to remain at home that night and other nights for the present, at least. And he reluctantly dismissed all idea of disclosing his feeling for Esther until his grandfather should be well and strong once more. He would write her and explain the situation; that was all he could do now. The next morning there was little change. Cook was no worse, nor was he appreciably better. “He will get along,” said the doctor, “provided he keeps still and doesn’t try to get up, or worry about that lawsuit or anything else. You are the only person who seems to have any real control over him. If you can just stick around and fight off callers, lawyers especially, and see that he takes his medicine and eats what he should and when he should--if you’ll just stay here with him for a week or two he will get over this upset. There will be others, of course. You know as well as I do that a man at his age is likely to--well, step off almost any time, but I don’t think it is going to be this time. I am counting on you to hold the fort for me.”