The summer had scarcely begun when Mr. Sandford’s daughter was again summoned from London. When she arrived she found the sick-room in charge of John, who had learned all that had to be done for the patient as well as such an unlikely nurse could learn. The old man would not suffer him out of his sight. He would not let him go even when Emily with her superior knowledge came and took the seat at his bedside, and began, almost before she came in, to alter the arrangements which the boy-nurse had made. ‘He shouldn’t have this and that,’ she said, ‘they are bad for him in his present state.’ ‘My grandfather likes it so,’ said John. ‘We mustn’t ask what he likes, but what is best for him, ‘said the new-comer. She was not unkind, but she was professional, seeing everything from a point of view very different from theirs, with a knowledge of what was right in the abstract and none of that tremulous desire to please which moves a domestic ministrant. And, as if he had waited for that sanction to his dying, the old man sank rapidly from the time of her arrival. Whenever he could talk at all, his talk was about ‘the boy’ over whose head these two earned on their discussions, taking no more notice of his presence than if he had been a chair or a table. ‘He’s been used to your mother, Emily. Your mother was very indulgent. Perhaps he has been spoilt a little.’ ‘A great deal, I fear, father.’ ‘It was your mother did it. I like whatever she did best. It was all done in love. Love is what he has been used to.’ This was on the last night of his life. He was lying holding John’s hand, who was at one side of the bed, while Emily was at the other. ‘Oh, be kind to him, my dear. He’s a good boy. Don’t let there be any misunderstanding. When I am gone he will have no one but you.’ ‘I will try to do my duty to him, father. I don’t think you need have any fear.’ ‘Your duty, Emily, yes; but I hope it will be a little more than that. Your own flesh and blood wants a little more. Trust him as much as you can, my dear. He’s worthy of it. You would never repent it. Remember that he has no one in the world but you.’ At midnight, the two to whom these words had been spoken stood again together over the bed in silence more significant than words. ‘He had no one in the world but you.’ The room was cold with the awe and chill of death, and John stood stupified, as if his heart was dead. No one in the world but her. Was this all he had to look to now? CHAPTER XVII. MOTHER AND SON.