The door behind them opened, and the nurse stepped out with a noiseless briskness. The doctor walked toward her steadily and listened to her quick, low-toned report. Then he nodded, and she stepped back into the bedroom and shut the door. He stood staring at the floor, one hand at his lips. Rankin made an inarticulate murmur of appeal. His face glared white through the obscurity of the hall. The older man went back to him, and looked up earnestly into his eyes. "Yes; there's every hope," he said. He added, with a brave smile: "For you and Lydia there's every hope in the world. For me, there's the usual lot of fathers." CHAPTER XXXVI ANOTHER DAY BEGINS They started. From below came a wail of fright. As they listened the sound came nearer and nearer. "That's Ariadne--a bad dream--get her quiet, for the Lord's sake." "Where is she sleeping?" "In the room next the parlor." Rankin gave an exclamation, and leaped down the stairs. At the foot he was met by a little figure in sleeping-drawers. "Favver! Favver!" she sobbed, holding up her arms. Rankin caught her up and held her close. "You promised you wouldn't get so afraid of dreams, little daughter," he said in a low, tender voice of reproach. "But this was a nawful one!" wept Ariadne. "I fought I heard a lot of voices, men's and ladies' as mad--Oh! awful mad--and loud!" She went on incoherently that she had been too frightened to stir, even though after a while she dreamed that the front door slammed and they all went away. But then she was _too_ frightened, and came out to find Favver. Rankin took her back to her bed, and sat down beside it, keeping one big hand about the trembling child's cold little fingers. "It was only a bad dream, Ariadne. Just go to sleep now. Father'll sit here till you do." "You won't let them come back?" asked the child, drawing long, shaken breaths. "No," he said quietly. "You'll always be close, to take care of me?" "Yes, dear." "And of Muvver and 'Stashie?" There was a pause. Ariadne spoke in grieved astonishment. "Why, of _course_ of Muvver and 'Stashie, Favver." Rankin took a sudden great breath. "I hope so, Ariadne." "Well, you _can_ if you want to," the child gravely gave her assent. She said no more for a time, clutching tightly to his hand. Then, "Favver." "Yes, dear." "I fink I could go to sleep better if I had my bunny." "Yes, dear," said the man patiently; "where is he?" "I fink he's under ve chair where my clothes are--ve _big_ chair. 'Stashie lets me put my clothes on ve biggest chair." The man fumbled about in the dark. Then, "Here's your bunny, Ariadne." The child murmured something drowsily unintelligible. The man took his seat again by the bed. There was a pause. The child's breathing grew long and regular. The rain sounded loud in the silence. In the distance a street-car rattled noisily by. Ariadne started up with a scream: "Favver! Favver!" "Right here, dear. Just the trolley-car."