ged at the moment in pity and anxiety.

"Hugo," she said gently, "I fear you are ill. Have you had any
breakfast?"

"I came by the early train to avoid ordering breakfast; I couldn't have
paid for it. I'd only enough for my fare. Jan, I haven't a single rupee
left."

He sat forward in the chair with his hands on the arms and closed his
eyes again.

Jan looked keenly at the handsome, haggard face. There was no pretence
here. The man was gravely ill. His lips (Jan had always mistrusted his
well-shaped mouth because it would never really shut) were dry and
cracked and discoloured, the cheekbones sharp, and there was that deep
hollow at the back of the neck that always betrays the man in
ill-health.

She went to him and pressed him back in the chair.

"What do you generally do when you have fever?" she asked.

"Go to bed--if there is a bed; and take quinine and drink hot tea."

"That's what you'd better do now. Where are your things?"

"There's a small bag at the station. They promised to send it up. I
couldn't carry it and I had no money to pay a boy. I came the long way
round, Jan, not through the village. No one recognised me."

"I'll get you some tea at once, and I have quinine in the house. Will
you take some now?"

Hugo laughed. "Your quinine would be of no earthly use to me, but I've
already taken it this morning. I've got some here in my pocket. The
minute my bag comes I'll go to bed--if you don't mind."

Someone fumbled at the handle of the door, and Tony, followed by
William, appeared on the threshold.

Hugo Tancred opened his eyes. "Hullo!" he said. "Do you remember me,
young shaver?"

Tony came into the room holding out his hand. "How do you do?" he said
solemnly.

Hugo took it and stared at his son with strange glazed eyes. "You look
fit enough, anyhow," he said, and dropped the little hand.

"I came as quick as I could," Tony said eagerly to Jan. "But Mr. Dauncey
caught a trout, and I _had_ to wait a minute."

"Good heavens!" Hugo exclaimed irritably. "Do you all _still_ think and
talk about nothing but fishing?"

"Come," said Jan, holding out her hand to Tony, "and we'll go and see
about some breakfast for Daddie."

William, who had been sniffing dubiously at the man in the chair, dashed
after them.

As they crossed the hall Tony remarked philosophically: "Daddie's got
fever. He'll be very cross, then he'll be very sad, and then he'll want
you to give him something, and if you do--p