"You must not take any notice of that. Remember how ill he is. Sick people cannot be expected to be thoughtful. Get dressed now, and then come and tell him you are glad he has come home." "But I'm not glad--and I don't want to see him." "Jack!" "No, I don't; and I won't see him," bursting into angry tears. "What's the good of a father like that! To stay away from us and never write us a letter, and only come back 'cause he's ill!" "It was I who brought him back, you must remember." "What will all the fellows say! I've told them----" "Never mind all that. You can tell them your father has had disappointments, and they will be sorry for him." "Not they, they'll sneer. Oh, mummy, I am so wretched!" She tried to soothe him, but the angry spirit had got hold of him too much. "Come and see him, there's a dear Jack. You will be sorry for him when you see how ill he is." "No, I won't. He's been cruel to you--cruel!" "Jack," standing straight up and speaking very firmly, "I am grieved, deeply grieved, at your unloving spirit. You had better get dressed and go at once to your aunt's and remain there till you have a more forgiving spirit. How could I tell your father that you refuse to see him!" It was the first time there had been a cloud between them. Each felt it keenly. Phebe went away with a heavy heart. The burden had more than doubled during that quarter of an hour. How gladly she would have entered the Golden Gate just then! It seemed as if now both husband and son had failed her. Entering the sick-room her eyes fell on the silver star, and the old motto came again to mind: "We rely on Thee." "I do," she murmured, "God is with me; He is working all things right." "Nanna," exclaimed Jack, when he got downstairs, "I can't find my cap." His eyes were too full of tears to see it. "Well, you don't want your cap before you have your breakfast." "I don't want any breakfast." "Don't want any breakfast! What nonsense! Where are you off to?" "To aunty's; mummy said I must go at once." "Mummy did not mean you to go without your breakfast. Of course she will want your aunty to know quickly of your father's return; but there's not so much hurry you cannot have your breakfast." He had been trying hard to keep back the tears, but could not succeed. "Oh, it's not that," he exclaimed. "Mummy is displeased with me, and is sending me away." "Jack," said Nanna, putting her hands on his shoulders and trying to look into his eyes, "do you mean to say you are going to desert your mother just at one of the darkest moments of her life?" "I don't want to go--she sent me away," freeing himself from her detaining hands. Arriving at his aunt's he was obliged to tell her the whole of the story. She felt inclined to share the boy's anger and resentment in the first moment of excitement, but, afterwards viewing the matter from the mother's standpoint, her words were very similar to Nanna's.