He got more than a little panicky though when he alit from the car and stood before the five-­pillared white house. Well, he alibied to himself, one is always a bit nervous on the threshold of a new job. But something else warned him, and he believed his sudden flare-­up of “heart-­trouble” (which the prison doctor had spoken to him about) had everything to do with the young man with the indefinable ailment whom he was to care for.

“I can’t tell you what a weight has been taken off my mind,” Irene Vaisey greeted him as she came out on the endless expanse of the porch and, with a glance at the chauffeur, dismissed him. “I’ve felt positively refreshed, even elated, knowing you will be here to look after him. . . . We won’t ask more of you than that, Mr. De Lakes . . .”

Sidney gave her a look of such questioning and uncertain wonder that she turned her eyes away for a moment. She was the first woman he had talked with for, well, he could not remember actually when. His mother—almost that far back.

“Have you had breakfast, Mr. De Lakes?”

“I thought we were to call one another by our . . . first names,” he broke out of his bashfulness. “Yes, my brother Vance prepared me a little something as a matter of fact.”

“But you could stand with something else, Sidney?” She laughed and took his hand. “Certainly a cup of coffee?”

“I’m not supposed to drink any, but actually I would like a cup.”

Irene Vaisey rang a small bell whose voice thrilled with a pure silver tone which he had never heard before.

A girl dressed in a highly starched apron and little white-­ frilled cap entered with a tray on which a solid silver pot of coffee rested, and two plates filled with cornbread and bacon.

“Just taste a little of each, why don’t you?” At a motion of her hand they both seated themselves.

“You will think me a fool,” she began in a very much altered voice, “when I keep telling you what a burden is lifted by your coming here.”

A short sob escaped from her. “Excuse me,” she said and reached in a fold of her long dress for a handkerchief. “Gareth’s father would have had his heart broken had he lived to see him like this . . . For Gareth was his favorite.”

“But he will recover, Mrs. Vaisey . . . Irene,” Sidney stretched out his hand toward her, but she did not see it, and he let it fall to his lap.

“You’re ready for another cup of coffee, I see,” she said after a pause during which she considered his opinion.

“The task I want you to help me with this morning, Sidney, is actually the most difficult one of all. . . . It is to . . . assist him manage his breakfast . . . You see he refuses to eat . . .”