e living if they can," said her son,
when he came in.

He had been more affected than he would confess by that welcome out on
the barren. He had not known himself how much attached he was to the
mild-voiced clergyman until it had become probable that soon they should
hear that voice no more. The danger of death was now averted, he hoped,
though the illness might be a long one; in his own mind he registered a
vow never to call any one "limp" again;--he had called Mr. Moore that
about once a week for years. "There's a kind of limpness that's
strength"--thus he lectured himself. "And you, Reginald Kirby, for all
your talk, might not, in an emergency, be able even to _approach_ it.
And turning out your toes, and sticking out your chest won't save you,
my boy; not a whit!"

Fond as Aunt Katrina was of the position of patroness, she was not
altogether pleased with some steps that were taken, later. "A proper
acknowledgment, of course, is all very well," she said. "But you and
Margaret, between you, have really given Mr. Moore a comfortable little
fortune. And you have put it in his own hands, too--to do what he likes
with!"

"Whose hands would _you_ have put it into?" Winthrop asked.

"A lawyer's, of course," Aunt Katrina answered.

"I am afraid Margaret and I are not always as judicious as you are, Aunt
Kate."

Aunt Kate was not quick (it was one of the explanations of the
preservation of her beauty). "No, you're not; but I wish you were," she
responded.

Mr. Moore knew nothing of the increase of his income; it was Penelope
who had been won over by Winthrop's earnest logic--earnest in regard to
the comfort of the poor sufferer lying blinded, voiceless, helpless, in
the next room. What Winthrop was urging was simply that money should not
be considered in providing for him every possible alleviation and
luxury. His illness might be a long one (at that stage--it was while Mr.
Moore was still in the river hotel--no one spoke of death, though all
knew that it was very near); everything, therefore, should be done to
lighten it. If the rectory was gloomy, another house in Gracias should
be taken--one with a large garden; two good nurses should be sent for
immediately; and, later, there must be a horse, and some sort of a low,
easy vehicle, made on purpose to carry a person in a recumbent posture.
Many other things would be required, these he mentioned now were but a
beginning; Mrs. Moore must see that neither his aunt, Mrs