“No, that isn’t all.  But if you don’t think so—­”

“I want to know what you think, Cynthy,” said Jeff, with the amorous resentment all gone from his voice.  “Sometimes folks outside notice the signs more—­I don’t mean that you’re an outsider, as far as we’re concerned—­”

She put by that point.  “Father’s noticed it, too; and he’s with Jackson a good deal.”

“I’ll look after it.  If he isn’t so well, he’s got to have a doctor.  That medium’s stuff can’t do him any good.  Don’t you think he ought to have a doctor?”

“Oh yes.”

“You don’t think a doctor can do him much good?”

“He ought to have one,” said the girl, noncommittally.

“Cynthia, I’ve noticed that Jackson was weak, too; and it’s no use pretending that he’s simply worked down.  I believe he’s worn out.  Do you think mother’s ever noticed it?”

“I don’t believe she has.”

“It’s the one thing I can’t very well make up my mind to speak to her about.  I don’t know what she would do.”  He did not say, “If she lost Jackson,” but Cynthia knew he meant that, and they were both silent.  “Of course,” he went on, “I know that she places a great deal of dependence upon you, but Jackson’s her main stay.  He’s a good man, and he’s a good son.  I wish I’d always been half as good.”

Cynthia did not protest against his self-reproach as he possibly hoped she would.  She said:  “I think Jackson’s got a very good mind.  He reads a great deal, and he’s thought a great deal, and when it comes to talking, I never heard any one express themselves better.  The other night, we were out looking at the stars—­I came part of the way home with him; I didn’t like to let him go alone, he seemed so feeble and he got to showing me Mars.  He thinks it’s inhabited, and he’s read all that the astronomers say about it, and the seas and the canals that they’ve found on it.  He spoke very beautifully about the other life, and then he spoke about death.”  Cynthia’s voice broke, and she pulled her handkerchief out of her belt, and put it to her eyes.  Jeff’s heart melted in him at the sight; he felt a tender affection for her, very unlike the gross content he had enjoyed in her presence before, and he put his arm round her again, but this time almost unconsciously, and drew her toward him.  She did not repel him; she even allowed her head to rest a moment on his shoulder; though she quickly lifted it, and drew herself away, not resentfully, it seemed, but for her greater freedom in talking.

“I don’t believe he’s going to die,” Jeff said, consolingly, more as if it were her brother than his that he meant.  “But he’s a very sick man, and he’s got to knock off and go somewhere.  It won’t do for him to pass another winter here.  He must go to California, or Colorado; they’d be glad to have him there, either of them; or he can go to Florida, or over to Italy.  It won’t matter how long he stays—­”