in his voice.

"I hadn't thought of that," answered his wife, her bright face
clouding. "I dare say he won't like it at all, but I don't see that
we can let him decide it. Perhaps it may do him good in the end."

"Well, I shall leave you to settle it with him," said Mr. Hamilton
rising from the table. "For some reason nothing I say seems to make
much of an impression on him nowadays."

"I must say that I get dreadfully discouraged, too," confessed his
wife. "He is so hopelessly indifferent to everything he used to
like; he utterly refuses to see one of the boys or girls, and he
sits for hours at a time doing absolutely nothing. I can see that
the doctor is really anxious about him," she continued.

"Keep up your courage, dear," said Mr. Hamilton with more cheerfulness
than he felt. "Perhaps we shall find a way out of it soon."

"I'll go up now and tell Arthur about Ruth," said Mrs. Hamilton as
she said goodbye to her husband in the hall. "That will give him
something to think of, whether he likes the prospect or not."

As Mrs. Hamilton entered the little sitting-room which used to be
the pride of her son's heart, it was so full of warmth and light
and brightness that, for a moment, in spite of herself, she felt
as if she must see the cheery boy of six months before. Everything
so suggested him, and it was so clearly the room of a boy who loved
all kinds of outdoor exercise. A pair of tennis racquets crossed
on the wall had evidently resigned their place for the time being