Cherry, who had not slept and who was pale, had come out to the car, her distracted manner increasing Alix’s sense that something was gravely amiss.  The sisters had loitered at the car a moment in the exquisite morning freshness.

“Remember the day the rose vine came down and you crawled through it?” Alix had asked, looking back at the house.

“Oh, don’t!” Cherry had protested faintly.

“Why not?” her sister had asked, tenderly reproachful.

“Oh, because it makes me so sad to think how happy we were!” Cherry had answered, making an effort to speak lightly.  “It’s such a glorious morning,” she had added, “I wish I were going to drive up with you.”

“Why don’t you?” Alix had said, eagerly.

“Oh—­too much to do here!” Cherry had answered, vaguely.  She had looked at her sister as if she would like to speak, smiled uncertainly, and had gone back to the house.  Alix had started on her trip with a heavy heart, but the half-hour’s run soothed her in spite of herself, and now she reached the cabin in a much more cheerful mood.

Peter was nowhere about, and as she plunged into the work of house and farmyard she supposed, without giving the matter a conscious thought, that he had gone to the city.

“Mis’ Peter not go train,” Kow announced, presently.

All Alix’s vague suspicions awakened.

“Not go train?” she asked, with a premonitory pang.

Kow made a large gesture, as indicating affairs disorganized.

“Him no go to bed,” he further stated.

Alix stopped the busy chopping that she was carrying on at the end of the kitchen table, and looked at the Chinese boy fearfully.

“Mr. Peter not go to bed?” she echoed with a sick heart.

“No sleep!” Kow announced, positively.  And pleased with her tense interest, he added, “Boss come late.  He walkin’ on porch.”

“He came in late and walked on the porch!” Alix echoed in a low tone, as if to herself.  “And you say he didn’t sleep, Kow?”

“Bed all same daytime,” the boy said.  And with the artless laugh of his race he added, “I go sleep.”

“You slept, of course,” Alix answered, absently.  “Where Mr. Peter go now?” she asked.  “He have some coffee?”

“No eat,” the boy answered.  He indicated the direction of the creek, and after a while Alix, with an icy heart, went to the bridge and the pool where Peter had first found Cherry only a few weeks ago.

He was standing, staring vaguely at the low and lisping stream, and Alix felt a great pang of pity when she saw him.  He came to her smiling, but as Cherry had smiled, with a wan and ghastly face.

“Peter, you’re not well?” Alix said.  “I think—­I am a little upset,” he answered.  They walked back to the house together.  Alix ordered him to take a hot bath, and made him drink some coffee, when, refreshed and grateful, he came out to the porch half an hour later.  They shared the little meal that was her luncheon and his breakfast.