He came back to his chair with a book in his hand, prepared to start on his new course.
"Father," she said quietly.

Her eyes were on the work in her lap.
"Yes, my child, what is it ?" "It's about John," she answered.

And with a movement of alarm he looked at his daughter intently.
"What's the matter with John ?" he inquired.
"He has tuberculosis," she said.
"He has no such thing!" her father retorted.

"John has Pott's Disease of the spine!" "Yes, I know he has," she replied.

"And I'm sorry for him, poor lad.