om the maid that mother had
been asking for me. I went quickly to her room. She was lying in bed
and at first I thought she was asleep, but she turned as I approached
her.

"Is that you, Warren?" she asked softly.

"Yes, mother. Stella said you wanted to see me." I bent down and
kissed her lightly. She reached up and put her thin weak arms around
my neck.

"Warren, is there anything wrong? If there is you must tell me."

"No, mother. What made you think that?" I asked.

She slowly withdrew her arms and let them fall at her side.

"I don't know. I seemed to feel that something had happened. Just
lying here, I felt afraid for you children--and then there were so many
people ringing the bell and the telephone, I was afraid that some
accident had happened to you or Helen."

I patted her wan cheek. "It's just your imagination. The only thing
wrong is that my dearest, little mother isn't as well and strong as her
good-for-nothing son."

I kissed her again, and she smiled up at me. "I'm so glad," she
whispered. "I was worried."

I almost choked when I got outside. If Helen should recover and be put
on trial, it would kill mother, I felt sure. And I would be left alone
in the world. Down-stairs, I asked Stella who had called, and she told
me the reporters had been trying to find me all day.

During the drive to the hospital, I tried to focus my mind on Helen's
defense, but all the force seemed to have been sapped out of me. I
felt weak and miserable and unutterably lonely.

At the hospital, they received me with the quiet sympathy that
strengthens you in spite of yourself and gives you hope. Doctor
Forbes, who had operated on Helen the night before, was in the office.
He had just come from Helen's room and he reported her condition to be
"extremely satisfactory."

"There is only one thing that worries me," he said. "Your sister seems
to have something on her mind that keeps her from resting as quietly as
I could wish. It is some real or fancied danger that repeats itself
over and over in her delirium. If we could only hit on something that
would ease her mind of those fears, I should have every reason to
believe she'd get well. I say this to you because you are her brother
and are no doubt acquainted with what has happened to her in the last
few weeks, and may be able to suggest what it is she fears."

"Perhaps it is the accident itself," I offered.

He shook his head. "It may be, but I