ink; but I shall be all right after a night's rest."

He kissed her as usual and she left him, feeling reassured about him.
The expedition of the morning was enough to account for a little extra
fatigue.

CHAPTER XXI

POOR RIP

"Since knowledge is but sorrow's spy
It is not safe to know."--DAVENANT.

The early post brought Philippa two letters next morning. One was from
Marion, who wrote to say that their plans were suddenly changed, and
that Philippa must not be surprised to receive a telegram at any moment
announcing their immediate return; the truth being that Dickie, who up
to now progressed well towards recovery, had begun to pine for his own
belongings and his familiar surroundings, and that, with all the
fretfulness of childhood in convalescence, he asked unceasingly to go
home. His demand had become so persistent, in spite of all his parents
could say or do to pacify him, that the doctor had said it might be
wiser to take the risk of moving him sooner than was expedient rather
than allow him to wear himself out with tears and unhappiness.

"He is not really naughty, dear little boy," so ran the mother's words,
"but he cannot be content. He won't pay any attention to toys or
games, and whatever I do to amuse him he turns away his head and his
little lip quivers pathetically. 'Thank you very much,' he says
wearily, 'but I don't want it. I want to go home.' So there is
nothing to be done but move him as soon as possible--the sooner the
better, I think, but the doctor wants to put it off a day or two if he
can. Will you tell the servants to get the rooms ready, and I will let
you know when we actually start? We shall motor all the way, as we can
make up a bed for Dickie in the car; I am sure he will be perfectly
quiet so soon as he knows he is really going home.

"Both Bill and I are most anxious that our coming should not disturb
Francis in any way, and if you will let us know exactly what the
doctor's wishes are we will see that they are carried out. If he
thinks it wiser that Francis should not see us we will arrange our
comings and goings so that we do not meet him. I gather from your
letters that except for the time he spends out of doors, he is mostly
in his own rooms, and if it is desirable we will keep away from that
part of the house altogether. I shall be so glad to be home
again--almost as glad as Dickie, I think, and I shall be glad to be at
hand in case you ne