d
stick on a chair, and stood looking down in silence at the thin little
form on the couch. Presently he turned.

"I'm afraid he's very ill, ma'am," he said gently. "You have your own
doctor, no doubt. But if you will permit me, as a friend, to make a
suggestion, we have in the city one of the best child specialists in the
United States, who is never weary of curing these little ones,--Dr.
Jarvis, and I shall be happy to ask him to come and see Dicky."

Mrs. Garvin glanced at Hodder, who came forward.

"I was just about to telephone for Dr. Jarvis, Mr. Bentley, when you
arrived. I am Mr. Hodder, of St. John's."

"How do you do, sir?" The kindly eyes, alight with a gentle flame, rested
upon the rugged figure of the rector. "I am glad that you, too, agree
that Dr. Jarvis is advisable, Mr. Hodder."

There was a sound from the bed. Garvin had got to his feet and was
staring wildly, with reddened lids.

"Are you Horace Bentley?" he demanded.

"That is my name, sir," Mr. Bentley replied. His expression of surprise
was only momentary. And in all his life Hodder had never beheld a
greater contrast in human beings than between that gracious and courtly
old man and the haggard, unkempt, unshaved, and starving outcast facing
him. Something like a film came over Garvin's eyes.

"He ruined you, too, twenty years back--Eldon Parr did for you, too. Oh,
I know his record, I've followed his trail--he got all the Grantham stock
that would have made you a millionnaire!"

"Ah," replied Mr. Bentley, smiling to humour him, "that's something I
have no wish to be, sir,--a millionaire." He met the frightened gaze of
the wife. "Good day, ma'am. If you will allow me, I'll come to-morrow
morning to learn what Dr. Jarvis will have had to say. Have courage,
ma'am, have courage. You may have faith in Dr. Jarvis."

The poor woman was incapable of speech. Mr. Bentley picked up his hat
and stick.

"I've taken the liberty of bringing Dicky a little ice and a few lemons."
His eyes rested again on the couch by the window. Then he turned to
Garvin, who stood mutely, staring. "Good evening, sir," he said.
"We must look for the best."

II

They went down the stairs of the shabby and battered house, stairs by the
side of which holes had been knocked through the faded wall-paper--scars
of frequent movings. The sound and smell of frying came out of the open
door of what once had been the parlour, and on the front steps a little
girl darted p