“I’ve been under a terrific strain for some time, Mrs. Williams. This little spell doesn’t mean a thing otherwise than a sort of let-down. All I need is a couple of hours’ rest to set me right.” “Very well, ma’am,” Mrs. Williams assented. “You’re the best judge, I suppose—although I think you’re a lot sicker than you imagine.” “Dear, kind Mrs. Williams!” Marjorie smiled gratefully. “Just lower the shades and I’ll try to relax. Only the very moment Mr. Howard comes in, send him to me.” “Yes, ma’am—just ring if you should need me.” She did as her mistress requested, and left the room, softly closing the door behind her. Left to herself, the stricken woman buried her head in the pillow and gave free vent to her grief. Her frail body was shaken like a reed, as she went from one paroxysm of convulsive sobbing into another. One word rang in her ears like a death knell—Manslaughter! Manslaughter! She was totally unaware of the opening of the door, until Howard knelt impetuously beside her. “How are you, mother?” he asked worriedly. “Mrs. Williams tells me you had a severe fainting spell.” “Oh, my dear! My dear!” She gathered him in her arms, and held him as though she would never let him go again. “I’m—I’m perfectly well now!” With all her might she tried to force a smile through her tears. “But you, dear, are you nervous—or frightened?” “Why _no_, mother dear.” (It sounded almost like bravado.) “As far as I’m concerned, I’m as calm as can be! It’s only about you that I’m nervous and worried.” “Well, you won’t have to be.” She sat up and resolutely brushed the tears from her eyes. “I’ll show you from now on, dear, that I can be just as brave as you.” “That’s the way to talk.” He kissed her again. “Just make up your mind that there isn’t anything to worry about, and there won’t be! Mr. Hammond says: ‘there are two kinds of people in the world—the negatives and the positives—and the positives always come out on top!’” “There’s a good deal of logic to that, just as there is to everything Mr. Hammond says. What a splendid man he is!” She was fervent in her encomium. “Indeed he is, and that reminds me,” he said as he placed her gently back among the pillows, “he’s downstairs now. He brought me home when we couldn’t get a response from you at the telephone. I think he was as badly frightened as I.” “You’ll thank him for me, for his kindness, won’t you, dear? And ask him to pardon me for not coming down? I do feel the need of a little rest—unless it is important for him to see me.” “Just you rest, dearest! There isn’t a thing for him to see you about now. I’ll come back later and sit beside you, ready to tell you whatever you wish to know.” She closed her eyes obediently and heaved a little sigh of contentment, as she heard him hurrying down the stairs. It had taken a dreadful crisis to bring her boy to her arms; but the overwhelming joy the knowledge of possessing his love gave her, made all the suffering of years fade into insignificance.