ignored him, and one of those unnaturally white hands
stretched forth to the night-table, which was on the side of the bed
opposite to Edwin. Darius's gold watch and chain lay on the
night-table.

"I've wound it up! I've wound it up!" said Edwin, a little crossly.
"What are you worrying at?"

But Darius, silent, continued to manoeuvre his flannelled arm so as to
possess the watch. At length he seized the chain, and, shifting his
weight to the other elbow, held out the watch and chain to Edwin, with a
most piteous expression. Edwin could see in the twilight that his
father was ready to weep.

"I want ye--" the old man began, and then burst into violent sobs; and
the watch dangled dangerously.

"Come now!" Edwin tried to soothe him, forcing himself to be kindly.
"What is it? I tell you I've wound it up all right. And it's correct
time to a tick." He consulted his own silver watch.

With a tremendous effort, Darius mastered his sobs, and began once more,
"I want ye--"

He tried several times, but his emotion overcame him each time before he
could force the message out. It was always too quick for him. Silent,
he could control it, but he could not simultaneously control it and
speak.

"Never mind," said Edwin. "We'll see about that tomorrow." And he
wondered what bizarre project affecting the watch had entered his
father's mind. Perhaps he wanted it set a quarter of an hour fast.

Darius dropped the watch on the eider-down, and sighed in despair, and
fell back on the pillow and shut his eyes. Edwin restored the watch to
the night-table.

Later, he crept into the dim room. Darius was snoring under the
twilight of the gas. Like an unhappy child, he had found refuge in
sleep from the enormous, infantile problems of his existence. And it
was so pathetic, so distressing, that Edwin, as he gazed at that beard
and those gold teeth, could have sobbed too.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

THE WATCH.

When Edwin the next morning, rather earlier than usual on Sundays, came
forth from his bedroom to go into the bathroom, he was startled by a
voice from his father's bedroom calling him. It was Maggie's. She had
heard him open his door, and she joined him on the landing.

"I was waiting for you to be getting up," she said in a quiet tone. "I
don't think father's so well, and I was wondering whether I hadn't
better send Jane down for the doctor. It's not certain he'll call
to-day if he isn't sp