That rite, with its poetry and its self-pity, brought exaltation into her resolution. The sacrifice was complete. CHAPTER XVI Life and spirit came back to Bertram Chester with a sudden bound. By the fourth day, he was so much alive, so insistent for company, that it became a medical necessity to break the conventional regulations for invalids, and let him see people. As it happened, his father was the first visitor. Judge Tiffany, who thought of everything, had telegraphed on the night of the accident, and had followed this dispatch, as Bertram improved, with reassuring messages. Bert Chester the elder, it appeared, was off on a long drive into Modoc; two days elapsed before his vaqueros, left on the ranch, could reach him. He arrived with his valise on the morning of that fourth day when Bertram roared for company. He was a tall, calm man, with a sea-lion mustache, a weather-beaten complexion and the Chester smile in grave duplicate. He was obviously uncomfortable in his town clothes; and, even at the moment when they were leading him solemnly to the sick room, he stepped in awe through the Tiffany splendors. When Mrs. Tiffany told him that Bert was doing well, would doubtless recover and without disability, he said "That's good!" and never changed expression. Mrs. Tiffany, lingering at the door, saw and heard their greeting. "How are you, Bert?" said Chester senior. "Pretty well, Dad," said Bertram. Then awkwardly, with embarrassed self-consciousness of the rite which he was performing, Mr. Chester shook his son's hand. After their short interview, Mr. Chester, a cat--or a bear rather--in a strange garret, roamed the Tiffany home and entertained her who would listen. He warmed to Kate especially, and that household fairy, in her flights between errands of mercy, played him with all the prettiness of her coquetry. At luncheon he quite lost his embarrassment and responded to the advances of three friendly humans. Yes ma-am, he had been glad to learn that Bertram was doing well in the city. He had five sons, all doing well. He'd risked letting Bert try college, and it had turned out all right. There wasn't much more left in the cattle business; but he was an old dog to learn new tricks. If he had it to do over again, he'd try fruit in the Santa Clara Valley, just like they had done. As the afternoon wore away bringing its callers, its telephone messages and its consultations of doctors, his mood shifted to uneasiness. He spent an hour walking back and forth in the garden. Just before dinner-time he approached Mrs. Tiffany and Kate, who were sewing in the living-room, and said simply: "Well, I guess I've got to be going." "Why, we're just getting acquainted!" cried Kate. Mrs. Tiffany merely flickered an eyelash at the assumption of privilege which this implied. But she answered, after a moment, "We should like to have you stay. Even at that, don't consider us when it is a case of being near your son."