“Harlan?” Martha Shelby’s voice called him softly from the stairway.
“Yes?” He turned to the door, explaining, “Dan may want me—he sends for me to come in sometimes. Perhaps you might——” He paused.
“Yes,” George said, rising. “I’ll go and wire her. She might want to come. At any rate she’ll send Henry. Then I’ll come back here. I’ll be downstairs in this room, if there’s anything——”
“I’ll let you know,” Harlan said, and he went upstairs to Martha.
“Your mother’s been with him,” she whispered. “She and the nurse said he seemed to be trying to ask for somebody, but he was so weak, and his cough troubled him so much——”
“I’ll go in and see,” he said; but he came back to her a few moments later, and told her it was for her that Dan was asking.
She went into his room, sat by his bed, and put her hand gently over his on the coverlet. “Why, you’re better, Dan,” she said, as he turned his head and looked at her with eyes that cleared and grew brighter, for he recognized her.
“Think so?” He spoke distinctly though his voice was weak. “Well, maybe—maybe. I did hope——”
“I did hope I wouldn’t have to be sick very long. I’ve got so much to do. I’ve done a good deal of work, but I haven’t ever _got_ anywhere with it, much. There’s a mighty big lot I’ll have to begin over, Martha. You don’t”—he paused, and laughed faintly. “You don’t—you don’t suppose God’s used me and now He’s goin’ to throw me away, do you?”
“No, no, no!” she said, making her voice cheerful. “You’ve only got to go ahead with what you began long ago.”
“No,” he said reflectively. “No; it isn’t exactly like that, Martha. Not exactly, that is. You see right now I’m a pretty complete failure—yes, I am. I’m a pretty bad failure.”
“Yes, I am,” he returned feebly. “I better face it, Martha, or I’ll never get anywhere. They’ve got Ornaby away from me——” His cough interrupted him; but he patiently let it have its way; and then, in a tone in which a wondering incredulity seemed to merge with resignation, he said, “Yes, sir; they did get Ornaby away from me!”
“Think so? Well, maybe—maybe,” he said indulgently. “But things do look like it came pretty close to a failure, Martha. It _would_ have been one, too—it’d have been a bankruptcy, and I believe I just couldn’t have stood that—but, well, anyhow it wasn’t that bad, thanks to Harlan.”