one. The
message was from Dr. McKenzie. The General was much worse. It might
be well for Derry to come home.

So Derry, with a great sense of relief, got away from the frigid
Captain, and from the flaming Drusilla, and from Peggy with her flushed
air of apology, and went out into the stormy night. He had preferred
to walk, although his shoes were thin. "It isn't far," he had said
when Margaret expostulated, "and I'll send my car for Drusilla and
Captain Hewes."

The sleet drove against his face. His feet were wet before he reached
the first corner, the wind buffeted him. But he felt none of it. He
was conscious only of his depression and of his great dread of again
entering the big house where a sick man lay in a lacquered bed and
where a painted lady smiled on the stairs. Where there was nothing
alive, nothing young, nothing with lips to welcome him, or with hands
to hold out to him.

He found when at last he arrived that the Doctor had sent for Hilda
Merritt.

She came presently, in her long blue cloak and small blue bonnet.
Hilda made no mistakes in the matter of clothes. She realized the
glamour which her nurse's uniform cast over her. In evening dress she
was slightly commonplace. In ordinary street garb not an eye would
have been turned upon her, but the nun's blue and white of her uniform
added the required spiritual effect to her rather full-blown beauty.

As she passed the painted lady at the head of the stairway she gave her
a slight glance. Then on and up she went to her appointed task.

"It is pneumonia," Dr. McKenzie told Derry; "that's why I wanted Miss
Merritt. She is very experienced, and in these days of war it is hard
to get good nurses."

Derry found his voice shaking. "Is there any danger?"

"Naturally, at his age. But I think we are going to pull him through."

Derry went into the shadowed room. His father was breathing heavily.
Something clutched at the boy's heart--the fear of the Thing which
lurked in the darkness--a chill and sinister figure with a skeleton
hand.

He could not have his father die. He would feel as if his thoughts had
killed him--a murderer in intention if not in deed. Not thus must the
Obstacle be removed. He raised haggard eyes to the Doctor's face.
"You--you mustn't think that I store things up against him. He's all I
have."

The Doctor's keen glance appraised him. "Don't get morbid over it; he
has everything in his favor--and Miss Merritt