Finally came the voice of the "top man"--the voice which had spoken in Lily's narrow hall six years ago, the voice which had joked with Edith at the Mortons' dinner party, the voice which had burst into extravagant guffaws under the silver poplar in his own garden--Doctor Nelson's voice--curt, impersonal: "Who is this speaking?" Then Maurice's voice, disguised into a gruff treble, "A friend." "One of the family?" "No." Five minutes later Maurice, coming out of that horrible little booth, the matter arranged at an expense which, later, would give Jacky's father some bad moments, was cold from head to foot. When he reached Lily's house the ambulance was waiting at the door. Upstairs, the doctor said, "Well?" And Lily said: "Did you do it? If you didn't, I'll--" "I did," Maurice said. Then he asked if he could be of any further service. "No; the orderly will get him downstairs. He's too heavy for Mrs. Dale to carry. She's got her things all ready. You--" he said, smiling at Maurice, "Mr.--? I didn't get your name. You look all in!" Maurice shook his head: "I'm all right. Mrs. Dale will you step in here? I want to speak to you a minute." As Lily preceded him into the dining room, he said, quickly, to the doctor, "I want to tell her not to worry about money, you know." To Lily--when he closed the door--he was briefly ruthless: "I'll pay for everything. But I just want to say, if he dies--" She screamed out, "_No--no!_" "He won't," he said, angrily; "but if he does, you are to say his father's dead. Do you understand? Say his name was--what did you call it?--William?" "I don't know. My God! what difference does it make? Call it anything! John." "Well, say his father was John Dale of New York, and he's dead. Promise me!" She promised--"Honest to God!" her face was furrowed with fright. As they went back to the doctor Maurice had a glimpse of Lily's bedroom, where Jacky, rolled in a blanket, was vociferating that he would _not_ be carried downstairs by the orderly. "Oh, Sweety," Lily entreated; "see, nice pretty gentleman! Let him carry you?" "Won't," said Jacky. At which Maurice said, decidedly: "Behave yourself, Jacobus! I'll carry you." Instantly Jacky stopped crying: "You throwed away the present I give you," he said; "but," he conceded, "you may carry me." The doctor objected. "It isn't safe--" "Oh, let's get it over," Maurice said, sharply; "I shan't see any children. It's safe enough! Anything to stop this scene!"