uncertainly: it seemed not quite the thing to smoke. Ought he to go to
Peter? In his mind's eye he saw the poor fellow haunting the landing by
Caddy's door; he had an idea that in some way he kept things quiet by
doing this. And how could one be sure that the troubled creature wanted
company?

There was a violent ring at the bell, a jarring of wheels on the
asphalt. The door flew open and the prettiest little woman imaginable,
all fluffy ends and scarlet flowers and orris scent, rushed toward him.

"Oh, Will! Oh, Will!" she gasped, "isn't it terrible? Where is Peter?
Can I see her? Oh, Will!"

Instinctively he took her in his arms--one always did that with Peter's
sister--and she put her head on his shoulder and cried a little, while
he patted her and murmured, "There, there!"

She was so manifestly comforted, and it was so pleasant to comfort
her--this was what a woman should be. He felt a renewed sense of
capacity, of readiness for even the most terrible emergency. He led her
gently to the great cushioned window-seat and listened sympathetically
to her excited babblings.

"It will kill Peter--it will kill him! In--in a great m-many ways, you
know, Will, Peter isn't so--so c-calm as Caddy. He is just bound up in
her. Suppose--Oh, Will!"

"Don't cry, Sue dear, don't!" he said soothingly. "She has a good
chance--a fine chance, really. These things are mostly resisting power,
you know, and grit, and think what a lot of grit Caddy's got!"

"Oh, I know, I know! Don't you know when the baby died--that first
baby--and s-she was so weak she could hardly speak? 'Never mind,
P-Peter, we'll have another!' Oh, dear, she was so pl-plucky, Will! And
now to think--"

He choked a little. "I know, I know," he murmured, "Caddy's a brick. She
always was."

She sat up, not wholly withdrawing from his arm, and patted her eyes,
breathing brokenly. Little gusts of orris floated toward him.

"Where are the children?" she asked, almost herself now.

"They're here--Peter wants them one minute and sends them away the next.
I should send them to grandmother's, but he won't hear of it."

A light step sounded on the stair. The nurse appeared on the lower
landing. She was dressed in cool blue gingham; the straps of her white
apron marked the firm, broad lines of her bust and shoulder.

"Is this Mrs. Wylie?" she said in her clear, assured voice. "Mrs. Moore
would like to see her a moment. Will you come with me?"

"I will come direc