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him from all kinds of stress. That’s the most important thing. He doesn’t need to be aggravated. It might well bring on another stroke.”
    Sabrina felt he was holding back worse news, but she didn’t press him for more. The reality of the situation hit her even more severely than when her mother had died. At least then—then she still had a healthy father she could rely on for everything. Now she realized that if something happened to her father, too, she would truly be alone.
    Dr. Blackman’s words brought her out of her thoughts. “You must trust God in situations like this, I’m afraid.”
    The words gave cold comfort to Sabrina. She was a member of the Church of England, as was her father, but their religion was a mere formality. There was no reality in it—certainly nothing that would take the sting away from the doctor’s plain meaning. She stood there mutely as the doctor gave instructions for her father’s care.
    â€œYou may need to hire a man to help with your father. Or perhaps your butler can handle it. Sir Roger is going to need more physical care than you could give, Miss Fairfax.”
    â€œRandell is very good; he should be able to handle it. He’s strong and he has a deep affection for my father.”
    â€œYes. Well, I’ll just go have a word with Randell, then, to give him some instructions. I’ll call again tomorrow.”
    Dr. Blackman left the room, and Sabrina suddenly felt very weak. She sat down in a chair and clasped her trembling hands together. She shook her head and murmured, “You’ve got to be stronger than this, Sabrina. You’re going to have to take care of things now. . . .”
    ****
    Other than Sabrina, Elberta Symington was the sole living relative of Sir Roger Fairfax. She was a tall, thin woman with nervous mannerisms but at the same time gave the impression that she was always right about every issue. Elberta was the strong-willed widow of a businessman who had not prospered. During their whole married lives, Mrs. Symington’s brother, Sir Roger, had helped Mr. and Mrs. Symington pay the bills. When Mr. Symington died, he left no more than a two-room cottage and a pitifully small allowance for his widow. Fortunately there had been no children for Elberta Symington to struggle with.
    â€œI don’t think my dear brother can live long.”
    Sabrina looked up and saw that her aunt had taken station in front of the desk in her father’s study. She had a wraith-like appearance and still wore her widow’s weeds of black even though her husband had died more than four years earlier. “It would be God’s mercy if he were taken now.”
    â€œDon’t talk like that, Aunt Elberta!” Sabrina said more sharply than she had intended. She had been struggling with Mr. Smith, the manager of her father’s firm, for over a week, and things looked absolutely hopeless. “Father’s going to be all right. He ate a great deal more this morning than usual.”
    â€œWell, I suppose it’s best to look on the bright side, but we must face reality.”
    Sabrina had faced nothing but reality for the past week. Her head was aching from attempts to find some way out of the morass that the business had become. She had been totally unaware of how bad off financially her father was, but Smith had made it plain that the situation was grim indeed. The loss of the Sabrina had sunk the manager’s hope, and he had told Sabrina that there seemed to be no way out, especially with Sir Roger helpless.
    The two women were interrupted as Randell came to the door. “It’s Mr. Franks to see you.”
    â€œShow him in, Randell,” Sabrina instructed.
    â€œYes, miss.”
    â€œWould you excuse me, please, Aunt Elberta? I need to talk with the solicitor.”
    â€œI’ll be glad to stay, but I’m sure he has nothing good to say.”
    â€œThank you, Aunt