* * * * *
As Helen was returning to the house after her talk with the children,
she saw her mother coming slowly from that part of the grounds where
the young woman had watched her father. It was evident, even at a
distance, that Mrs. Ward was greatly distressed. When the young woman
reached her mother's side, Mrs. Ward said, simply, "Your father,
dear--he is terribly upset. Go to him, Helen, you can always do more
for him than any one else--he needs you."
It was not an easy task for Helen Ward to face her father just then. As
she went in search of him she tried to put from her mind all that she
had seen and to remember only that he was ill. She found him in the
most distant and lonely part of the grounds, sitting with his face
buried in his hands--a figure of hopeless despair.
While still some distance away, she forced herself to call cheerily,
"Hello, father."
As he raised his head, she turned to pick a few flowers from a near-by
bed. When he had had a moment to regain, in a measure, his
self-control, she went toward him, arranging her blossoms with careful
attention.
Adam Ward watched his daughter as she drew near, much as a condemned
man might have watched through the grating of a prison window.
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