Michael sat back in the chair after hanging up the receiver, his eyes glistening with moisture. To think the day had come when Sam should care like that! It was a miracle.
Michael went back again to the bed to look after his patient, and after he had done everything that the doctor had said, he decided to reconnoitre for some breakfast. There must be something in the house to eat even if the servants had all departed, and he ought to eat so that his strength should be equal to his task.
It was late in the morning, nearly half-past ten. The young man hurried downstairs and began to ransack the pantry. He did not want to be long away from the upper room. Once, as he was stooping to search the refrigerator for butter and milk he paused in his work and thought he heard a sound at the front door, but then all seemed still, and he hurriedly put a few things on a tray and carried them upstairs. He might not be able to come down again for several hours. But when he reached the top of the stairs he heard a voice, not his patient's, but a woman's voice, sweet and clear and troubled: "Daddy! Oh, daddy dear! Why don't you speak to your little girl? What is the matter? Can't you understand me? Your face and your poor hands are so hot, they burn me. Daddy, daddy dear!"
It was Starr's voice and Michael's heart stood still with the thrill of it, and the instant horror of it. Starr was in there in the room of death with her father. She was exposed to the terrible contagion; she, the beautiful, frail treasure of his heart!
He set the tray down quickly on the hall table and went swiftly to the door.
She sat on the side of the bed, her arms about her father's unconscious form and her head buried in his neck, sobbing.
For an instant Michael was frozen to the spot with horror at her dangerous situation. If she had wanted to take the disease she could not have found a more sure way of exposing herself.
The next instant Michael's senses came back and without stopping to think he sprang forward and caught her up in his arms, bearing her from the room and setting her down at the bath-room door.
"Oh, Starr! what have you done!" he said, a catch in his voice like a sob, for he did not know what he was saying.
Starr, frightened, struggling, sobbing, turned and looked at him.
"Michael! How did you come to be here? Oh, what is the matter with my father?"