Mrs. Henshaw received her.
"How are things going?" the visitor asked.
The only response was a shrug of the shoulders.
"Not very well?" suggested the social worker.
"No; how could they go well?" replied Mrs. Henshaw in a moody and aggrieved tone of voice. "My husband is no better, the damp weather has a depressing effect upon him. He has been in bed most of the week."
"What are you planning to do for him?"
"He is to stay at home," replied Mrs. Henshaw. "I know that I can take care of him." She then burst into a torrent of feeling. "He has been in the Hudson Hospital all winter and is no better. The doctors have done him no good. When he wanted to leave, they threatened him with the law. If he could have gone to Mount Huron last summer as I wanted, he would be all right now. It is the one place away from home where he would be happy. I don't see why you won't send him there."
"Do you believe he has tuberculosis?"
"I know he has," admitted Mrs. Henshaw.
She had never been willing to acknowledge this before. It was for this reason that the social case worker had asked the question. Had she told
