other. You are not ill? Oh, don't be ill! We can't
spare you too!"

"No, no, my dear. I am quite well. It was a great shock... but there
was no nursing. It would have been worse if he'd been ill long. Sit
down, my dear... You must have some milk... He came down to breakfast
quite himself, but depressed. He had been depressed--" She saw Mary
wince, and hurried into explanations.--"About business... Not you, my
dear! He had got over that. So interested in your letters... Poor
Papa! investments had been bad, and he was led into speculation. I
never suspected.--He never confided in me. He knew that I should
object. Papa could be very self-willed. It's the way with these mild
characters; all of a sudden they get the bit in their teeth, and there's
no stopping them." She saw Mary wince again, and gave a peal to the
bell. "You must have some milk! Or tea? Shall I hurry up tea? Tea,
please, Mason, and don't toast the muffin until you've brought in the
tray. It was cold yesterday.--I was telling you, Mary, that he had had
bad news... opened a letter after breakfast and there it was.--He read
it through, and called out to me: `Margaret! Margaret!'..." The large,
complacent face shivered suddenly into tears. "It was years--years--
since he had called me that!"

Mary took out her handkerchief, and wiped her own eyes. She was sorry
for her mother, but the habit of thinking first of herself had grown too
strong to be overcome.

"Did he--did he speak of me?"

"My dear, there was no time. It fell on him at that very moment--the
stroke! He never spoke again. Those were his last words, `Margaret!
Margaret!'--as he used to call to me when we were young, before you
children were born."

There was evident solace in the remembrance, despite the tears which it
evoked. Mary made a futile effort to conjure up a picture of youthful
parents, loving each other, living in happy comradeship, and then
reverted to her mother's words of a few moments before.

"Bad news! Speculations?... How much had he lost?"

Mrs Mallison's hands twitched, she clasped them tightly upon her knee.

"He said--all! He said--ruin! It's too early yet to be sure. Mr
Maitland will make enquiries... I knew he had been selling out shares.
I thought it was to reinvest in some better security. Papa was always
close about business. If he speculated with the principal, and it has
gone, it will be"--the hands jerked once more--"ruin!"