  Mrs. Graham invited Gilbert and Henry to spend Christmas at Boveyhayne, and they gladly accepted her invitation, but a week before they were due to go to Devonshire, Mr. Quinn fell ill, and Henry, alarmed by the reports which were sent to him by Hannah, wrote to Mrs. Graham to say that he must travel to Ireland at once. He hurried home to Ballymartin, and found that his father was more ill even than Hannah had hinted. "I wouldn't have let her send for you, Henry!" he said, apologetically, "only I was afraid ... I mightn't see you again!" He tried to cheer his father by protesting that in a little while he would be astride his horse again, directing the farm experiments as vigorously as ever, but Mr. Quinn shook his head. "I don't think so, Henry!" he said. "I'll not be fit for much anyway. You'll have to lend a hand with the estate, my son." "I'll help all I can, father, but I'm not much of an agriculturist!..." "Well, you can't be everything. That new book of yours ... the one you sent me the other day!..." "'Turbulence,' father?" "Aye. It's a gran' book, that. I'd like well to be able to write a book of that sort. I'm proud of you. Henry!" Henry blushed and turned away shyly, for direct praise always embarrassed him, but he was very pleased with his "You'll stay home a while, now you're here, Henry, son, won't you?" "Yes, father, as long as you like!" "That's right. You'll be able to work away here in peace and quietness. Nobody'll disturb you. I suppose you're started on another book?" Henry told him of "The Wayward Man." ... "That's a great title," he said. "You're a gran' one at gettin' good titles for your books, Henry. I was readin' a bit in the paper about you the other day, an' I near wrote to the man an' told him you were my son, I was that pleased. Ease this pillow under my head, will you? Thanks, boy!" He took Henry's hand in his. "I'm right an' glad to have you home again," he said, smiling at him. "Right an' glad!" |
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