In the morning he found his mother looking at him.

Her blue eyes--they were all he wanted to see.
She was there; he was in her hands.
"It's not much, mother," he said.

"It was Baxter Dawes." "Tell me where it hurts you," she said quietly.
"I don't know--my shoulder.

Say it was a bicycle accident, mother." He could not move his arm.

Presently Minnie, the little servant, came upstairs with some tea.
"Your mother's nearly frightened me out of my wits--fainted away," she said.
He felt he could not bear it.