been　here　all　the　afternoon　hoping　you　would　come　in。　The　room　felt　a　little　cold；　my　dear；　and　your　good　woman　made　a　fire　for　me；　as　you　see。　You　don't　mind；　do　you？〃
  Margaret　bowed　her　head　on　his　hands　and　kissed　the　thin　fingers　that　lay　in　her　own。　Her　heart　was　full　to　bursting。　The　pathos　of　the　bent　figure；　the　despairing　sound　of　his　voiceso　unlike　his　buoyant　tones；　the　ghostly　light　that　permeated　the　room；　so　restful　always　before；　so　grewsome　and　forbidding　now；　appealed　to　her　in　a　way　she　had　never　known。　She　was　not　thinking　of　herself；　nor　of　Oliver；　nor　of　the　wife　waiting　for　the　news　at　home；　she　was　only　thinking　of　this　dear　old　man　who　sat　with　bowed　head；　his　courage　gone；　all　the　joyousness　out　of　his　life。　What　hurt　her　most　was　her　own　utter　helplessness。　　In　most　things　she　could　be　of　service：　now　she　was　powerless。　She　knew　it　when　she　spoke。
  〃Is　it　ended？〃　she　asked　at　last；　her　practical　mind　wanting　to　know　the　worst。
  〃Yes；　my　child；　ended。　I　wish　I　could　give　you　some　hope；　but　there　is　none。　I　shall　go　home　to…　morrow　and　begin　again；on　what　I　do　not　know　somethingI　cannot　tell。〃
  Oliver's　footsteps　sounded　in　the　outer　hall。　She　rose　quickly　and　met　him　on　the　outside；　half　closing　the　door；　so　that　she　could　tell　him　the　dreadful　news　without　being　overheard。
  〃Broken　their　promises　to　father？　Impossible！　Why？　What　for？　Another　invention？　Oh；　it　cannot　　be！〃
  He　walked　quickly　toward　him。　〃But　father；　what　about　your　patents？　They　can't　rob　you　of　them。　Suppose　this　man's　motor　is　better。〃
  Richard　did　not　move。　He　seemed　unwilling　to　look　his　son　in　the　face。
  〃Let　me　take　hold　of　this　thing。〃　Oliver　was　bending　over　him　now；　his　arms　about　his　neck。　〃I'll　see　Mr。　Slade　at　once。　I　met　him　this　morning　and　told　him　you　were　here；　and　he　is　coming　to　call　on　you。　He　has　always　stood　by　me　and　will　now。　These　people　who　have　disappointed　you　are　not　the　only　ones　who　have　got　money。　Mr。　Slade；　you　know；　is　now　a　banker　himself。　I　will　begin　to…morrow　　to　fight　this　new　man　who〃
  〃No；　no；　my　son；　you　must　do　nothing　of　the　kind；〃　said　Richard　leaning　his　cheek　wearily　against　Oliver's　hand；　as　if　for　warmth　and　protection；　but　still　looking　into　the　fire。　〃It　would　not　be　right　to　take　from　him　what　he　has　honestly　earned。　The　lifting　　power　of　his　machine　is　four　times　my　own；　and　the　adjustment　of　the　levers　much　simpler。　He　has　only　accomplished　what　I　failed　to　do。　I　am　not　quite　sure　but　I　think　he　uses　the　same　arrangement　of　levers　that　I　do；　but　everything　else　is　his。　Such　a　man　is　to　be　helped；　not　worried　with　lawsuits。　No；　my　son；　I　must　bear　it　as　best　I　may。　Your　poor　mother！〃　He　stopped　suddenly　and　passed　his　hand　over　his　eyes；　and　in　a　broken；　halting　voice；　added：　〃I've　tried　so　hard　to　make　her　old　age　happier。　I　fear　for　the　result　when　the　news　reaches　her。　And　you　and　this　poor　girl！〃and　he　reached　out　his　hand　to　Margaret〃this　is　the　part　that　is　hardest　to　bear。〃
  Oliver　disengaged　his　arm　from　his　father's　neck　and　walked　up　and　down　the　room；　Madge　watching　him。　His　mind　was　searching　about　for　some　way　to　stem　the　tide　of　disaster。　Every　movement　of　his　body　expressing　his　determination。　He　was　not　thinking　of　himself。　He　saw　only　Madge　and　his　mother。　Then　he　turned　again　and　faced　his　father。
  〃Will　you　let　me　try？〃　he　urged　in　a　firm　voice。
  〃No；　Oliver！　Positively　no。〃
  As　he　spoke　he　straightened　himself　in　his　chair　and　turned　toward　Oliver。　His　voice　had　regained　something　of　its　old…time　ring　and　force。　〃To　rob　a　man　of　the　work　of　his　brain　is　worse　than　to　take　his　purse。　You　will　agree　with　me；　I　know；　when　you　think　it　over。　Mr。　Gorton　had　never　heard　of　my　invention　　when　he　perfected　his；　nor　had　I　ever　heard　of　his　when　I　perfected　mine。　He　is　taking　nothing　from　me；　how　can　I　take　anything　from　him！　Give　me　your　hand　my　son；　I　am　not　feeling　very　well。〃　His　voice　fell　again　as　if　the　effort　had　been　too　much　for　him。　〃I　think　I　will　go　back　to　the　hotel。　A　night's　rest　will　do　me　good。〃
  He　rose　slowly　from　his　chair；　steadied　himself　by　holding　to　Oliver's　strong　arm；　stood　for　an　instant　　looking　into　Margaret's　eyes；　and　said；　with　infinite　tenderness：
  〃Come　close；　my　daughter；　and　kiss　me。〃
  She　put　her　arms　about　him；　cuddling　her　head　against　his　soft　cheek；　smoothing　his　gray　hair　with　her　palm。
  〃My　child；〃　he　said；　〃you　have　been　a　delight　and　joy　to　me。　A　woman　like　you　is　beyond　price。　I　thank　you　from　the　bottom　of　my　heart　for　loving　my　son。〃
  With　something　of　his　old　manner　he　again　straightened　himself　up；　threw　his　shoulders　back　as　if　strengthened　by　some　new　determination；　walked　firmly　across　the　room；　and　picked　up　his　cloak。　As　he　stood　waiting　for　Oliver　to　place　it　about　his　shoulders；　he　put　his　hand　to　his　side；　with　a　quick　movement；　as　if　smitten　by　some　sudden　pain；　staggered　backward；　his　head　upon　his　breast；　and　would　have　sunk　to　the　floor　but　for　Oliver's　hand。　Margaret　sprang　forward　and　caught　his　other　arm。
  〃It's　nothing；　my　son；〃　he　said；　between　his　gasps　for　breath；　holding　on　to　Oliver。　〃A　sudden　giddiness。　I'm　often　subject　to　it。　I；　perhaps；　got　up　too　quickly。　It　will　pass　over。　Let　me　sit　down　for　a　moment。〃
  Half　supporting　him；　Oliver　put　his　arm　about　his　father　and　laid　him　on　the　lounge。
  As　Richard's　head　touched　the　cushion　that　Margaret　　had　made　ready；　he　gave　a　quick　gasp；　half　rose　as　if　to　breathe　the　better；　and　fell　back　　unconscious。
  When　the　doctor　arrived　Richard　was　lying　on　Margaret's　bed；　where　Oliver　had　carried　him；　he　had　rallied　a　little；　and　had　then　sunk　into　a　deep　sleep。　Margaret　sat　beside　him；　watching　every　breath　he　drew；　the　scalding　tears　streaming　down　her　face。
  The　physician　bent　closer　and　pressed　his　ear　to　the　sleeping　man's　breast
  〃Has　he　been　subject　to　these　attacks？〃　he　said；　in　a　grave　tone。
  〃I　know　of　only　one　some　years　ago；　the　year　the　war　broke　out；　but　he　recovered　then　very　quickly；〃　answered　Oliver。
  〃Is　your　mother　living！〃
  〃Yes。〃
  〃Better　send　her　word　at　once。〃
  CHAPTER　XXV
  SMOULDERING　COALS
  The　night　wind　sighed　through　the　old　sycamores　of　Kennedy　Square。　A　soft　haze；　the　harbinger　of　the　coming　spring；　filled　the　air。　The　cold　moon；　hanging　low；　bleached　the　deserted　steps　of　the　silent　houses　to　a　ghostly　white。
  In　the　Horn　mansion　a　dim　light　burned　in　Richard's　　room　and　another　in　the　lower　hall。　Everywhere　　else　the　house　was　dark。
  Across　the　Square；　in　Miss　Clendenning's　boudoir；　　a　small　wood　fire；　tempering　the　chill　of　the　April　night；　slumbered　in　its　bed　of　ashes；　or　awakened　　with　fitful　starts；　its　restless　blaze　illumining　the　troubled　face　of　Margaret　Grant。　The　girl's　eyes　were　fixed　on　the　dying　coals；　her　chin　in　her　hand；　the　brown…gold　of　her　wonderful　hair　gold…red　in　the　firelight。　Now　and　then　she　would　lift　her　head　as　if　listening　for　some　approaching　footstep。　Miss　Clendenning　sat　beside　her；　leaning　over　the　hearth　in　her　favorite　attitude；　her　tiny　feet　resting　on　the　fender。
  The　years　had　touched　the　little　lady　but　lightly　since　that　night　when　she　sat　in　this　same　spot　and　Oliver　had　poured　out　his　heart　to　her。　She　was　the　same　dainty；　precise；　lovable　old　maid　that　she　had　been　in　the　old　days　of　Kennedy　Square；　when　the　crocuses　bloomed　in　the　flower…beds　and　its　drawing…rooms　were　filled　with　the　wit　and　fashion　of　the　day。　Since　that　fatal　night　when　Richard　had　laid　away　his　violin　and　brother　had　been　divided　against　brother；　and　Kennedy　Square　had　become　the　stamping　ground　of　armed　men；　she　had　watched　by　the　bedsides　of　a　thousand　wounded　soldiers；　regardless　　of　which　flag　they　had　battled　under。　The　service　had　not　withered　her。　Time　had　simply　stood　still；　forgetting　the　sum　of　its　years；　while　it　marked　her　with　perennial　sweetness。
  〃I'm　afraid　he's　worse；〃　Margaret　said；　breaking　the　silence　of　the　room；　as　she　turned　to　Miss　Clendenning；　　〃or　Ollie　would　have　been　here　before　this。　Dr。　Wallace　was　to　go　to　the　house　at　eleven；　and　now　it　is　nearly　twelve。〃
  〃The　doctor　may　have　been　detained；〃　Miss　Clendenning　　answered。　〃There　is　much　sickness　in　town。〃
  For　a　time　neither　spoke。　Only　the　low　muttering　　of　the　fire　could　be　heard；　or　the　turning　of　some　restless　coal。
  〃Margaret；〃　Miss　Clendenning　said　at　lastit　had　always　been　〃Margaret〃　with　the　little　lady　ever　since　the　day　she　had　promised　Oliver　to　love　the　woman　whom　he　loved；　and　it　was　still　〃Margaret〃　　when　the　women　met　for　the　first　time　in　the　gray　dawn　at　the　station　and　Miss　Clendenning　herself　helped　lead　Richard　out　of　the　train　〃There　is　a　bright　side　to　every　trouble。　But　for　this　illness　you　would　never　have　known　Oliver's　mother　as　she　really　is。　All　her　prejudices　melted　away　as　soon　as　she　looked　into　your　face。　She　loves　you　better　every　day；　and　she　is　learning　to　depend　on　you　just　as　Richard　and　Oliver　have　done。〃
  〃I　hope　she　will；〃　the　young　woman　answered；　without　moving。　〃It　breaks　my　heart　to　see　her　suffer　as　she　does。　I　see　my　own　mother　in　her　so　often。　She　is　different　in　many　ways；　but　she　is　the　same　underneathso　gentle　and　so　kind；　and　she　is　so　big　and　broad…minded　too。　I　am　ashamed　to　think　of　all　the　bitter　feelings　I