Chapter V: Part 5

Nora raised her eyebrows with an air of mock resignation. "No use our _all_ going," she said in an undertone as I went past her, and resumed her conversation with the gentleman to whom she had been talking.

Some people had collected in the doorway of the library by the time I got there, and I was delayed a minute or two in getting into the room; then I saw, at one glance, that our worst fears were realised. There stood my father, minus his spectacles, peering about him with a most anxious, bewildered expression on his face,--I was struck with how ill he looked! and around him on the polished floor lay the fragments of one of the Doulton bowls! The small table on which it had stood was-overturned, flowers were scattered in every direction, and among the ruins shone my father's glasses, broken in several pieces.

Nannie went straight to the _pater's_ side and took his hand. "Felix and I are here, papa; what can we do for you?" she said. The colour was in her face; I know she felt embarrassed, but her voice was quite calm.

My father screwed up his eyes in a vain attempt to see the extent of the mischief: "I--I think--I think, my dear, that I've broken something," he said. At which very obvious statement there was a sound of smothered laughter at the door.

Nannie's colour deepened, and I believe I muttered something about finding Mrs. Blackwood; to tell the truth, I was so rattled--between sympathy for the _pater_ and embarrassment at the accident--that I hardly knew what I was saying, but my father caught at it. "Yes, yes," he said nervously, "I must speak to our hostess; I must apologise for my awkwardness. Ask Mrs. Blackwood if she will be kind enough to step here, Felix--or stay, I will go to her."

"I'll find Mrs. Blackwood for you," volunteered one of the bystanders; but at that moment the little crowd at the door parted and in came Mrs. Blackwood, and who should be behind her but _Max_! I was delighted to see him. I felt that we were all right then, for Max always knows what to do; and I think Nannie felt as relieved as I did, for she gave a glad little cry as she held out her hand. Then she turned as red as a rose,--I suppose she suddenly realised how many people were looking at her; but evidently Max didn't mind them in the least, for he held on to Nannie's hand, and smiled, and looked at her just as kindly as if we were at home,--Max likes us all, but Nannie has always been his favourite.

In the mean time Mrs. Blackwood was trying, with exquisite tact, to make my father feel less uncomfortable. "It was the most absurd place to put a bowl of flowers," she asserted cheerfully, "on so slight a table, and so near the book-shelves. I've always declared that an accident would occur; now I can say, 'I told you so!' and that's such a satisfaction to a woman, you know."

She laughed merrily, but the _pater_ still looked troubled. "It was a great piece of carelessness on my part," he repeated mournfully, for about the fifth time. "I stood looking over a volume I had taken from the shelf,--that, I am thankful to know, has not been injured" (with a hasty glance at the book still tightly clasped in his left hand),--"and becoming interested, I presume I forgot where I was, and--and leaned too heavily against the table. It gave way, and--this ruin is the result! I--I--cannot express to you how I regret the accident."

"_Don't_ be troubled over it, dear friend, _please_ don't," Mrs. Blackwood urged. "Nothing is broken but the bowl, and that may have been cracked before,--it seems to me that one of them was; let us rather rejoice that you were not hurt by your fall, for _that_ would indeed have been a serious matter. Now I'm sure you want to resume looking over that 'Abbé Marité;' isn't it quaint? and perhaps among Mr. Blackwood's glasses we may be able to find a pair that would suit your eyes for the nonce. I know how perfectly lost one feels without one's 'second eyes.' Shall we make the selection? Come, Felix and Nannie,--you, too, Max,--and help us get the right focus. Oh, please don't speak of going, Mr. Rose."

Chatting pleasantly to divert my father's mind from the accident, Mrs. Blackwood led us into her husband's smoking-room, where from his collection of spectacles and eyeglasses my father made a selection which enabled him to finish the "Abbé," and soon after that to get home with some degree of comfort.

There were no more _contretemps_ that afternoon, I am thankful to say; Max went home and dined with us. He was in fine spirits,--so glad to get home again, he said,--and made even the _pater_ smile over a description of what he calls his "adventures in the far West." With the exception of a short visit in the study, he spent the evening with us in the schoolroom, hearing all that has happened to us since he went away, and playing violin and piano duets with Nannie and me.

I intended to have had a talk with Max about Chad, but there was no opportunity on this evening; and besides, he looked so pleased when Nora said she thought that Chad was "nice"--and she claims to be so _very_ fastidious! I can't understand it--that I concluded I'd wait until another time to air my opinion. I noticed that Phil didn't say anything for or against Chad: all the same, _I_ shall speak, just as soon as I can get Max alone; for, if he doesn't know it already, he ought to be told the sort of individual his ward is. As far as I'm personally concerned, I'd put up with the fellow rather than trouble Max, but I've got to think of Phil.

After Max had taken his departure, and Betty and Jack had been walked off to bed, we four older ones sat talking for a few minutes. Phil, as usual, sat on the edge of the schoolroom table. "Well, you three gay and festive creatures," he said, with a comprehensive wave of his hand toward us, "what's your true and honest opinion of the afternoon's tea-fight, politely termed 'reception'? You needn't all speak at once, you know."

"Thanks awfully for the information," laughed Nora, making him a very graceful and sweeping bow. "Well, except for the unhappy _quart d'heure_ that papa gave us, I enjoyed the reception immensely. Oh, I'd _love_ to be out in society," she said, with sparkling eyes, "and meet lots of people, and go to balls and receptions and all those affairs every day of my life. That's what _I_ call living,--not this stupid, humdrum school life; and I 'll have them all, too, some day, see if I don't," she ended, with a toss of her head and a little conscious laugh. Nora knows she's pretty; that's one of the things that spoil her.

Phil eyed her severely, wrinkling up his brows. "Eleanor, my love," he remarked, with his most fatherly air, "I beg that you will bear in mind the fable of the unwise canine who lost his piece of meat by trying to catch its larger reflection in the stream, and endeavour to profit thereby. No charge made for that good advice. Now, Nancy, let's hear from you."

Nannie hesitated a little. "Why--I think I enjoyed it," she said slowly; "yes, I did."

"What! _did_ you?" I exclaimed in surprise. "You mean to say you enjoyed sitting on that lounge and seeing Miss Devereaux snub that unfortunate little woman in the hideous bonnet?"

"Well, no, not that part," admitted Nannie.

"And did you enjoy the _pater's_ smashing the Doulton bowl?"

"Oh, no, of _course_ not," Nannie returned, somewhat indignantly.

"Then where did the enjoyment come in?" I persisted.

"I can't tell you why, or when, or how, but I enjoyed it," was Nannie's reply; and then, "without rhyme or reason," as nurse says, she blushed a vivid red.

"Do look at her!" teased Phil. "Why, Nancy, it isn't against the law to have enjoyed yourself. What're you blushing for?"

"I'm sure I don't know," my twinnie answered, with such a look of perplexity in her sweet, honest eyes that we had to laugh. Whereupon she blushed rosier than ever, even to her ears and her pretty throat, and running over to me, hid her flushed face on my shoulder. "Please stop teasing, Fee," she whispered.

Now if anybody was teasing just then Phil was in it, and I started to tell her so; but Phil interrupted: "One more county to be heard from," he declared, "and that's you, most noble Felix. Are you, like Nora, hankering after the unattainable in the shape of daily receptions?"

"Can't say that I'm devoured with a desire that way," I confessed with a grin. "I wouldn't go over this afternoon's experience for a farm! As they say in the novels, my feelings can be better imagined than described when I walked into the Blackwoods' library and saw the _pater_ standing in the midst of the shattered vase _à la_ Marius in the ruins of Carthage. Had I but owned a genii, we'd have been whisked out of that room and home in about two seconds. No, on calm reflection, I forswear receptions for the future."

"Hullo!" exclaimed Phil, suddenly, "I say,--come to think of it,--how d'you suppose the _Blackwoods_ enjoyed the orgy?"

We looked at each other. "_I_ said I enjoyed myself," asserted Nora, with a superior and very virtuous air. "It's the least one can do when people go to the trouble and expense of entertaining one."

Nannie sat up and looked contrite. "_Poor_ Mrs. Blackwood!" she said; "Doulton is her favourite china, and that bowl _was_ a beauty!"

"I guess they got the worst of it," I said to Phil.

"I shouldn't wonder if they had," he answered with a nod. "Moral: Don't give afternoon receptions. Let's be off to bed. Good-night, all."

XII.

IN THE SHADOW.

TOLD BY JACK.

Felix and I were together in his room; he was helping me with my Latin--that vile Latin, how I despise it!--when we heard some one calling from the hall two flights below. "Why, that sounds like Nannie's voice!" Felix said, starting from his chair. "I wonder what's up?"

We heard plainly enough when we got in the hall, for Nannie was calling, in a loud, frightened way, "Felix! Phil, Jack! somebody!--_anybody!_"

"All right! here we are! What's the matter?" Felix answered, making for the steps as fast as he could go. "Oh, pshaw! I've left my cane in the room; get it for me, Jack, and catch up to me on the stairs."

I dashed into Fee's room, snatched up the cane, and was out again in time to hear Nannie say, excitedly: "Tell nurse to come right down to the study, Felix, and send Jack flying for Dr. Archard; papa is _very_ ill, I am afraid. Oh, be quick, _quick!_"

"Great Scott!" exclaimed Fee. I knew by his voice that he was awfully frightened. Then suddenly he slid down in a sitting position on one of the steps. I thought he must have stumbled; but before I could say anything, or even get to him, he called out, "All right, Nan! nurse will be there in a minute," adding impatiently to me: "What are you gaping at? Get on your hat--it's on the hat rack--and rush for Dr. Archard as fast as you can. Tell him father's very ill, and to come at _once_. Step lively, Jack!"

"But nurse--" I hesitated. "Shall I tell her first?"

"Do as you've been told," Fee said sharply. "I'll see to that; do you suppose I'm _utterly_ useless? _Start!_" He gave me a little push on the shoulder as he spoke, and I tell you I just flew down those steps and out into the street.

I ran every step of the way, and caught Dr. Archard just as he was stepping into his carriage to go somewhere. He looked very serious when he heard my message. "I'm not surprised," he said; "I've been expecting a break-down in that quarter for some time." Then he made me jump into the carriage with him, and we drove rapidly round to the house.

There we found everybody very much excited. The study door stood open, and from the hall I could see papa lying on the lounge, with his eyes closed, and looking very white. Nurse was rubbing his feet, Nannie his hands, and Miss Marston stood by his head fanning him.

Felix and Phil were not around, but I tell you the younger children were; nurse and Miss Marston not being there to keep them upstairs, they had all collected in the hall, and refused flatly to go to the nursery. For fear of the noise they might raise, Nora couldn't very well make them obey; but after the doctor came, she and Betty half coaxed, half drove them into the drawing-room, and tried to keep them there. It was hard work to do this, though, for every now and then Paul or Alan, or even Kathie--_she_ ought to have known better--would sneak out "to see what was going on." Then Betty'd fly out too, and as quietly as possible catch and haul back the runaway. I think both Nora and Betty would like to have had me come in there too,--Nora said as much,--but I pretended I didn't hear; _I_ didn't want to be shut up, and anyway, as I thought, somebody ought to be on hand to run errands in case anything was needed. So I just stayed where I was.

"Oh, I am so _thankful_ you have come!" Nannie exclaimed, as the doctor walked in. But, except for a nod, he didn't notice her; he laid his fingers on papa's pulse, then in a minute or so knelt down and put his ear to papa's chest. I was watching him so intently that I didn't know Phil had come in until I heard Nora--she was standing in the hall and holding the drawing-room doors shut--say, in a low tone, "Hush! don't make a noise; papa is ill. Dr. Archard's here--in the study."

"What's the matter?" Phil asked, opening his eyes in a startled sort of way, and looking very serious.

"Why, he complained to Nannie of feeling queer, and then suddenly fainted away; and since then he has gone from one fainting fit into another. Isn't it strange? I don't think he has ever done such a thing as faint in his life before."

"He's been working like a slave over that beastly old Fetich," Phil said irritably, "as if he was _bound_ to get it finished."

I knew he was cross because he was scared about papa, and sorry for him; but Nora didn't seem to guess that,--she doesn't see through things like that as Nannie does,--and now she just put up her eyebrows as if surprised, and said, "Why, isn't that what you all wanted,--to have the Fetich finished?"

Phil got red in the face, and he made a step nearer the drawing-room door. "That was a mean speech, Nora," he said in a low, angry voice.

_I_ think it was mean, too; but perhaps it was because she felt badly about papa that Nora spoke so,--as nurse says, different people have different ways of showing their feelings,--for she put out her hand and commenced, quickly, "I didn't mean to hurt--"

But while she was speaking, Nannie came out of the study. "Oh, Phil," she said, as soon as she saw him, "come right in here, won't you? the doctor says we must get papa to bed as quickly as possible, and you can help us."

Phil flung his books on the hat-rack table, and followed her into the room at once, and they shut the study door.

It opened again, though, in a minute or two, and out came Miss Marston, just in time to catch Alan as he rushed along the hall, away from Betty, who was in hot pursuit. "What are _you_ doing down here?" demanded Miss Marston, severely.

"They're all here," Alan paused to explain, rather defiantly, whereupon Betty pounced on him.

Miss Marston held a hot-water bottle in her hand; she was on her way to the kitchen, but she stopped to speak to the children,--for at the sound of her voice Nora had opened the drawing-room doors, and Kathie, Paul, and Mädel had tumbled out into the hall in a body. "This will never do," Miss Marston said, "racing about the halls while your father is so ill! Can't you find something for them to do, Nora? Take them to the nursery, or the schoolroom, and give each--"

I didn't wait to hear the rest. I was afraid she'd see me, and remember that old Latin, so I scooted up the back stairs as hard as I could go; you see she wouldn't have taken into account that I was waiting down there in case I was wanted for an errand.

It was as I got up near Fee's room that I began to wonder where he was, and why he hadn't been downstairs with the rest of us; he must have wanted to know how papa was, I thought. I looked in the schoolroom, but he wasn't there,--the place had a deserted appearance! Then I ran down again and peeped into his room, and just think! there, flat on the floor, with his feet barely inside the doorway, lay Felix!

I was so astonished and so scared--it's a serious matter for Fee to fall, you know (he hasn't really been himself, I mean not as strong, since that day in the schoolroom, when Alan upset him)--that when I cried out, "Oh, _Fee!_ did you fall? have you hurt yourself?" and knelt down by him, I hardly knew what I was saying or doing.

"Shut the door," Felix said; he spoke slowly, as if he were very tired. His face looked badly, too,--pale, and with black rings under his eyes away below his glasses. And there was something in the way he lay there--a limpness and helplessness--that somehow frightened me, and made me feel right away as if I ought to call nurse or somebody. But I know Fee likes to have people do as he tells them, so first I shut the door tight, then I came back and knelt down by him again. "Hadn't I better help you up, Fee?" I asked, "or shall I call"--I was going to say "Nannie or Phil," but remembered they were helping papa, and ended up with "somebody?"

But Felix only said, "How's father? Tell me about him."

He listened to all I could tell about papa; then, when I had finished, he threw his arms wide apart on the floor with a groan, and rolled his head impatiently from side to side. I just _longed_ to do something for him,--dear old Fee!

"Don't you want to get up?" I asked again, in as coaxing a way as I could. "I could help you, you know, Fee; the floor is so hard for your back."

Then he told me. "Jack," he said, in a tired, hopeless voice that made a lump fly into my throat, "I'm in a pretty bad fix, I'm afraid; my poor old back and my legs have given out. I got a very queer feeling that time I sat down so suddenly on the steps, and after you'd gone 'twas all I could do to brace up and drag myself to this floor to call nurse. Then I crawled in here, and barely got inside the door when I collapsed. My legs gave way entirely, and down I tumbled just where you see me now." He threw his arms out again, and twisted one of his hands in the fringe of the rug on which he was lying; then presently he went on: "Do you know why I'm still lying here? do you know why, Jack? because"--his voice shook so he had to stop for a minute--"because, from my waist down, I can't move my body at all. Unless somebody helps me, I'll have to lie here all night; _I'm perfectly helpless_!"

I'd been swallowing and swallowing while Fee was talking, but now I couldn't stand it any longer; I felt awfully unhappy, and I just _had_ to let the tears come. "It's that fall that's done it," I said, trying to wipe away the tears that came rushing down,--it's so _girlie_ to cry!--"the day Alan upset you in the schoolroom! Oh, Fee, _do_ let me call somebody to help you! Phil's downstairs, you know; oh, and the doctor,--please, _please_ let me ask _him_ to come up! Oh, mayn't I?"

Felix put out his hand and patted my knee in a way that reminded me of Nannie; he doesn't usually do those things. "Don't cry, Jackie-boy," he said very gently, "and don't blame Alan,--I don't believe he touched me that day; I believe now that that was an attack similar to this, only not so severe. What'll the _next_ one be!" His voice began shaking again, but he went right on: "Now I want you to help me keep this thing quiet,--I was hoping you'd be the one to find me,--so that Nannie and the others won't have it to add to their anxiety while the _pater_ is ill. I'm afraid he's in a bad way; I don't like the doctor's sounding his heart,--that looks as if he suspected trouble there. He has been working like a slave ever since--oh, what _beasts_ we were to get up that Fetich joke! Poor old _pater_!" Felix folded his arms across his eyes and lay perfectly quiet; I _think_ I saw a tear run down the side of his face to his ear, but I won't be sure. That just brought that horrid lump right back into my throat, but I was determined I wouldn't break down again; so I got up, and taking a pillow from the bed, brought it over to slip under Fee's head,--the floor was _so_ hard you know.

This roused him. "You're not very big, Rosebud, but perhaps you can help me to get to bed," he said, trying to speak as if nothing had happened. "I may feel better after I'm there; who knows but this attack may wear off in a day or two, as the other did."

He spoke so cheerfully that I began to feel better, too, and I flew around and did just as he told me. First I pulled his bed right close up to where Fee lay,--it's very light,--then I made a rope of his worsted afghan, and passing it round the farthest bedpost, gave the ends to him; then, as he pulled himself up, I pushed him with all my might, and by and by he got on the bed. It was awfully hard to do, though, for the bed was on casters, and would slip away from us; but after a good while we succeeded.

"There, I feel a little better already!" he said, after I'd got him undressed. "That floor _was_ hard, and I was there some time; yes, I do feel a little better." He took hold of the railing at the head of the bed and pulled himself a little higher on the pillows.

"Perhaps you'll be all right again in a few days, same as the last time," I suggested.

Fee's face brightened up. "That's so,--perhaps I shall," he said. "Why, Jack, you're almost as good a comforter as Nannie!" Then he took my hand as if he were going to shake hands, and holding it tight, went on with, "Now, Jack, I want you to promise me that you'll not speak about this attack of mine to _anybody_. As you say, I'll possibly--probably--be all over it in a few days, and there's too much sickness and trouble in the house already, without my adding to it. Promise me, Jack!" He gave my hand a little shake as he spoke.

But I hesitated; for, though now he seemed better, I couldn't get out of my mind how _awfully_ he had looked when I first found him,--and Fee isn't strong like the rest of us. But he shook my hand again two or three times, saying impatiently, "Why don't you promise? There's no harm in doing what I ask; think how worried and anxious Phil and Nannie are about papa!"

"Yes, presently," we heard Phil's voice say at the door at that very moment.

"Promise! _promise!_" repeated Felix, almost fiercely, and I got so nervous--Phil was coming right into the room--that I said, "All right, I promise," almost before I knew what I was saying. I got a frightened sort of feeling the moment the words were out of my mouth, that made me just wish I hadn't said them.

"Hullo! in bed? What's up?" asked Phil in surprise, as he walked up to Fee. "I wondered where you were." Then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down on the edge of the bed, and went on, in an excited tone of voice, "Did you hear about the _pater_? I tell you we've had our hands full downstairs; I'm afraid he's"--here Phil stopped and cleared his throat--"he's pretty low down. Dr. Archard as much as admitted it when I asked him to tell me the truth. It's that Fetich! He has been working over it like a galley slave, because--" Phil stopped again. He and Felix looked at each other; then, starting up, Phil walked over to the other side of the room, and stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at Fee's picture of the Good Shepherd which hangs on the wall there, and which he had seen scores of times before.

"Who's going to take care of father?" Felix asked presently, and that brought Phil back to his bedside.

"The doctor is going to send us a trained nurse this afternoon," he said; "but in the mean while Nannie and nurse are with him. Every time he became conscious he asked for Nannie or spoke her name, and seemed easier when she was near him; once or twice he called her 'Margaret'!"

We were quiet for a moment or two,--that was dear mamma's name,--then Phil began again: "The nurse that's coming is a woman, and very efficient, I believe. Of course she'll have to have a certain amount of rest every day, and at those times somebody will have to take her place; so I'm going to try to be home early afternoons,--Nannie can't do everything, you know,--and sit with the _pater_ while the nurse takes her nap. I thought perhaps we could alternate, you and I,--you're so splendid in a sick room; but I suppose I'll be as awkward as the proverbial bull in the china shop. I generally get rattled when I undertake to do anything for father, and am sure to do just what I shouldn't; so I'm not sorry you're going to be there for a change, old man." He threw his arm across Fee's poor helpless legs as he spoke, and gave one of them a little squeeze.

Fee hesitated. "I'm afraid I can't begin right away," he said slowly; "I'm not up to the mark just now, and it would be best not to depend on me for anything for at least--a week. Then, if I can, you may be sure I'll willingly take my part of the nursing."

"Why, you're not ill, are you?" exclaimed Phil. "You were all right this morning when I went out. It's just to sit in the room, you know; you could read there, I suppose, if you wanted to."

Felix coloured up at Phil's tone. "You know very well I'm not one of the sort to shirk,--I would do anything for the _pater_," he said quickly, "and just as soon as I can I'll take my full share in looking after and nursing him; but, as I told you, I don't feel quite up to it just now. I'm going to keep quiet for a few days,--a week, perhaps."

Fee was trying to speak in his usual way, but there was something in his voice when he said that "perhaps" that made me just long to tell Phil right out what the trouble was. As it was, maybe Phil noticed something, for he eyed Fee sharply as he asked, rather anxiously: "Look here, Felix, is there anything you're keeping back? Come to notice, you do look rather white about the gills; do you feel ill, old fellow?"

I thought everything would come out then, for I knew Fee wouldn't lie about it; and so it would, I'm pretty sure, if Paul and Alan hadn't come bouncing into the room, and Nora behind them.

The boys flew to Fee's bedside. "Oh, Fee, _don't_ let her get us!" "Oh, Fee, _do_ let us stay with you!" they cried at the same moment, while Alan added saucily, "she just thinks we b'long to her!"

"They're the _rudest_ children I ever knew!" exclaimed Nora, angrily,--just as if she knew all the children in the world! "They don't know what the word, 'obedience' means. Come straight upstairs this minute,--both of you!"

She made a dive for them, but the boys were too quick for her. Alan ducked under Fee's bed, and came up on the other side with a triumphant chuckle, while Paul rolled right over Fee's legs and landed on the floor, where Phil grabbed him.

"Can't you behave yourselves, you young rascals?" demanded Phil, sternly, giving Paul's arm a shake, and catching Alan by the collar. "Just walk straight upstairs, and do as your sister tells you. Stop your noise this minute,--do you hear me?"

But instead they both roared the louder, at the same time pulling and tugging to get away. "She's just _horrid_!" asserted Alan, trying to wriggle out of Phil's grasp. "I just wish she'd go an' live in some other house, and never come back;" while between his sobs Judge drawled out pertly: "She thinks she can treat us like anything 'cause nurse isn't here to take our part. She won't let us do one single thing, an' she's just as cross as an old cat--so _now_!"

"I am, eh?" cried Nora, indignantly. "Well, like it or not, you will have to obey me. Go upstairs at once,--both of you! _Make_ them go, Phil!"

I felt awfully sorry for them,--you see I know Nora is a nagger, she tries it on me sometimes; but they _were_ making a horrible din. Fee looked very white; he lay with one arm folded over his eyes; and to make matters worse, in walked Betty. "Kathie has started crying, and I can't stop her," she announced, as she got in the doorway. "I'm afraid Mädel will be off in a few minutes, too, if we don't quiet Kathie; hadn't I better call Nannie?"

"Who is taking my name in vain?" said a voice that we were all glad to hear, and there was Nannie herself, smiling at us over Betty's shoulder.

XIII.

THROUGH THE SHADOW.

TOLD BY JACK.

Well, it was astonishing how things quieted down after that. Phil let go the boys, and with a shout of delight they rushed up to Nannie, and just threw themselves on her; with an arm round each, she went straight to Fee's side: "Why, Felix, are you ill? My dear, is it your back again?" As she spoke she laid her hand on his forehead, and then stroked his hair back.

"Yes," Fee said wearily, closing his eyes; "my back--and the _noise_!"

"Come, boys, we'll go up to the nursery and get ready for dinner. Nurse has to stay with poor papa, so I'm going to give you your dinner; and of course I want my little knights to be on their best behaviour for the occasion." Nannie drew them, still hanging on to her, toward the door.

"Oh, yes, and _do_ stop Kathie, if you can," put in Betty. "Mädel accidentally rocked the charger on Kathie's pet doll's head and smashed it, and she's just _howled_ ever since. Do listen!"

Sure enough, we could all hear a long, mournful wail; then another and another; if there's one thing Kathie does well, it's crying.

"What! Esmeralda Dorothea? Poor Kathie!" said Nannie; "I don't wonder she feels badly. Come, boys, we'll go up and see if we can comfort her."

The boys looked quite jubilant! holding on to Nannie's hand, Alan threw a defiant glance at Nora as he passed her, and Judge quoted in his slow, droll way: "'My _dear_ dolly's dead! She died of a hole in her head!'"

"Instead of petting those boys, Nannie, you ought to punish them well, or give them a good scolding!" cried Nora. "They have both been exceedingly rude and disobedient to me."

Nannie looked grieved, and the boys immediately began making excuses, which Nannie heard in silence. When they had finished, she said: "We are going upstairs to get ready for dinner, Nonie; but after that, when we are all sweet and clean, these two little men will, I am sure, come to you and ask you to overlook this afternoon's behaviour. I can't think that they really meant to be rude or disobedient to sister Nora."

Nora tossed her head, but said nothing until Nannie had gone upstairs; then she remarked: "It's outrageous the way Nannie spoils the children; did you see the impertinent look Alan gave me as he went by? You will see they won't apologise,--I know they won't;" and then she, too, walked out of the room.

But they did apologise, all the same, and very soon after, too.

"Like oil on troubled waters! What a blessing that Nannie belongs to this family!" Phil said, when we three were alone again.

"Ay, thank God for her!" answered Felix, fervently; and I felt like saying so too. Really, I don't know what we'd do without Nannie to keep the peace. It isn't that we don't love one another, for we do, dearly, and we just _love_ to be together, too; but somehow, somebody or other's sure to get into a discussion, or a fuss, or a regular quarrel, if Nannie isn't on hand to smooth things down. I don't know how it is, but she can get us to do things that we wouldn't do for any one else, and it isn't because she coaxes, for she doesn't always; sometimes she speaks right square out, and doesn't mince matters either,--but even then we don't mind. I mean it doesn't hurt as it would from somebody else. Felix says it's because she has tact, and Betty says it's because she loves us an awful lot. _I_ think perhaps it's both.

Well, those next two weeks were just _awful_! Seems now as if they'd been a tremendous long nightmare. There was Fee in bed upstairs he didn't get up or stand on his feet for nearly ten days,--he couldn't, you know, his legs wouldn't hold him up, though I rubbed and rubbed them every night till I was so tired, I felt as if I'd drop. Of course I didn't let Fee know how tired I got over it, 'cause then he wouldn't have let me rub 'em so long, and I did want to do it thoroughly.

At first Fee hadn't a bit of feeling in his legs; but gradually it came back, and at last one afternoon he managed to stand on his feet, holding on to me and the furniture,--his cane wasn't any good at all at first,--and I tell you he used to press hard, though he didn't know it. You see he was anxious to be all right as soon as he possibly could, 'cause the others began to think 'twas queer he stayed in bed so long if it was nothing but his back, and he didn't want them to know what the trouble was; and besides, he felt all the time that he should be up and helping take care of papa: there was a good deal to do, though the nurse was there, for the doctor said papa shouldn't be left alone for even a minute. So they were all very busy and anxious, or they would certainly have noticed what a long time I stayed in Fee's room every afternoon, and perhaps have suspected something.

Phil was the one Fee said he was most afraid would find out, but he was a good deal in papa's room in the afternoons, and evenings he was studying, 'cause his exams, were coming on, though sometimes he went for long walks with Chad. Chad was very often at the house at this time, but he never went in to see Fee; and after the first or second time I didn't tell Fee, for he doesn't like Chad, and I could see he didn't want Phil and Chad to be together without his being there too. We don't any of us care very much for Chad,--not half or even a quarter as much as we do for Hilliard; even Betty has to admit that, for all she makes such fun of Hill's slow ways. You see Chad puts on such silly airs, pretending he's a grown-up man, when really he's only a boy,--he's only a year older than Phil. And then he talks so much about his money, and wears _diamonds_,--rings and pins and buttons,--fancy! As Betty says, nice men and boys don't wear diamonds like that.

Betty is awfully rude to Chad sometimes; she calls him Monsieur le Don_key_, and Dresden-china-young man, and laughs at him almost to his face. I should think he'd get mad, but he just ignores her. In fact, the only one he shows any attention to is Nora; he's all the time bringing her flowers, and talking to her in his affected way, and lately he has begun to be very friendly with Phil, though I'm not sure that Phil cares very much in return,--he's so short with Chad sometimes.

But, dear me! all this isn't what I started to say; I was telling you about those awful nightmare weeks. Well, to go back, there was Fee in bed upstairs, just as brave-hearted as he could be, but getting thinner and paler every day; and there was papa in the extension--he's slept down there ever since dear mamma died--in bed too, and desperately ill. The doctor came two and three and four times a day, and the house was kept as still as could be; we just stole through the halls, and scurried up the stairs like so many mice, so's not to make any noise, and because the constant muttering that we could hear from the sick-room made us feel so badly,--at least it did us older ones, the younger children didn't understand.

Papa doesn't usually say very much; but now he was out of his head, and he just talked the whole time, and loud, so one couldn't help hearing what he said. 'Twas about the Fetich; he called it "my book," and scolded himself because he couldn't work faster on it, so's to sell it. I tell you what, that just broke Betty and Phil all up! Then he'd seem to forget that, and begin about walking in the country with mamma, through fields full of flowers and trees and "babbling brooks,"--that's what he called 'em, and quoted poetry about them all. He never once spoke of us; it was always "Margaret, Margaret!" sometimes in a glad voice, as if he were very happy, and sometimes in a sad, wailing sort of way, that brought a great lump into our throats.

Nannie had to be in papa's room most all of every day,--the nurse said he got very restless when she wasn't around,--and as he kept getting worse and worse, she was in there lots of nights, too. Her lessons, and all the other things, had to just go, and we hardly saw her except for a little while now and then, when she ran up to sit with Felix and tell him about how papa was getting on.

After a while she began to look a little pale, and her eyes got real big and bright; but she never once said she was tired, and it never occurred to any of us--you see we were all worked up over papa--until one day Max spoke of it to Felix: he said Nannie was just killing herself, and got so sort of excited over it--Max isn't one of the excitable kind--that Fee started in to worry about Nannie. It was when he had just begun to walk about a little, and he was wild to go right down and take Nannie's place in the sick-room. But he couldn't, you know; why, 'twas as much as he could do to barely stand on his feet and get round holding on to the furniture. Then, when he realised that, he got disheartened, and called himself a "useless hulk," and all sorts of horrid names, and was just as cranky as he could be; but I felt so sorry for him that I didn't mind. Poor old Fee!

Well, from day to day papa got more and more ill; the fever kept right on and he was awfully weak, and at last he fell into a stupor. That day Dr. Archard hardly left our house for even an hour, and the other physicians just went in and out all the time. Max was there, too,--he almost lived at our house those weeks, taking all the night watching they'd let him, and doing all he could for papa and us,--and about seven o'clock that evening he came up to the schoolroom, where we older ones were. Dr. Archard had told Phil, and he had told us, that a change would come very soon,--papa would either pass from that stupor into a sleep which might save his life, or he would go away from us, as our dear mother had gone.

No one of us was allowed to stay in the sick-room but Nannie, and she had promised to let us know the minute the change came; so we five and Max were waiting in the schoolroom, longing and yet just dreading what Nannie might have to tell us.

It was a glorious afternoon: the sun had just gone down, and from where we sat--close together--we could see through the windows the sky, all rose-colour and gold, with long streaks here and there of the most exquisite pale blue and green; and soft, white, fleecy clouds that kept changing their shape every minute. When I was little and heard that anybody we knew was dead, I used to sit in one of our schoolroom windows and watch the sunset, to see the angels taking the soul up to heaven,--- I thought that was the way it went up; I could almost always make out the shape of an angel in the clouds, and I'd watch with all my eyes till every speck of it had melted away, before I'd be willing to leave the window. Of course I really know better than that now, but this afternoon as we all sat there so sad and forlorn, looking at the skies, there came in the clouds the shape of a most beautiful large angel, all soft white, and with rosy, outspread wings, and I couldn't help wondering if God was sending an angel for papa's soul, or if he would let mamma come for it--she loved him so dearly!

Betty saw the angel, too, for she nudged my elbow and whispered softly, "Oh, Jack, look!"

Just then we heard a step outside, the door flew open, and Nannie came in; her face was pale, but her eyes were wide opened and shining, and when she spoke her voice rang out joyfully: "Oh, my dears, my dears!" she cried, stretching out her arms to us, "God is good to us,--papa is asleep! He will live!" Then, before anybody could say a word, she got very white, and threw out her hand for the back of Fee's chair; Phil sprang to catch her, but like a flash Max was before him. Taking Nannie right up in his arms, as if she'd been a little child, Max went over and laid her on the sofa, then knelt down by her, and began rubbing one of her hands.

Phil flew for nurse, Nora for a fan, Betty for water, and I caught up Nannie's other hand and began rubbing it, though I could scarcely reach it from where I stood almost behind Max. I could hear Fee's chair scraping the floor as he hitched himself along toward us.

Max stopped rubbing and began smoothing the loose, curly pieces of Nannie's hair off her forehead. "Dear little Nancy Lee!" I heard him say; and then, "My brave little--" I lost that word, for Nannie opened her eyes just then, and looked up at him with a far-off, wondering look; then the lids fell again, and she lay perfectly still, while Max and I rubbed away at her hands.

In a minute or two the others came trooping in with nurse and the things they'd gone for, and pretty soon Nannie was much better. She sat up and looked at us with a smile that just lighted up her whole face,--I think Nannie is so pretty! "What a goose I was to faint!" she said, "when we have such _good_ news! Oh, isn't it splendid, _splendid_! that papa will get well!" Then in a minute--before we knew what she was about--she was kneeling by Felix, with her arms round his neck, crying and sobbing as if her heart would break.

And what d'you think! in about two minutes more, if we weren't every one of us crying, too! I don't mean out loud, you know,--though Nora and Betty did,--but all the same we all knew we were doing it. Phil laid his arms on the schoolroom table and buried his face in them, Fee put his face down in Nannie's neck, and I was just _busy_ wiping away the tears that would come pouring down; nurse threw her apron over her face and went out in the hall, and Max walked to the window and stood there clearing his throat. And yet we were all _very_, _very_ glad and happy; queer, wasn't it?

XIV.

A MISSION OF THREE.

TOLD BY JACK.

That was the turning-point, for after that papa began to get better; but my! so slowly: why, it was days and days, Nannie said, before she could really see any improvement, he was so dreadfully weak. After a while, though, he began to take nourishment, then to notice things and to say a few words to Nannie, and one day he asked the doctor how long 'twould be before he could get at his writing again.

The evening that Nannie came upstairs and told us about his asking the doctor this, we held a council. The "kids" were in bed, and Miss Marston was in her own room, so we had the schoolroom to ourselves; and in about five minutes after Nannie got through telling us, we were all quite worked up and all talking at once. You see we didn't want papa to begin working again on the Fetich as he had done, for Dr. Archard had said right out that that was what made him ill; and yet we didn't see, either, how we could prevent it.

"Let's steal the Fetich and bury it in the cellar," proposed Betty, after a good deal'd been said; "then he _couldn't_ work at it, for it wouldn't be there, you know."

Her eyes sparkled,--I think she'd have liked no better fun than carrying off the Fetich; but Phil immediately snubbed her. "Talk sense, or leave the council," he said so crossly that Nannie put in, "Why, _Phil_!" and Betty made a horrible face at him.

Then Fee spoke up: "Say, how would it do for us, we three,--you, Phil, and Betty and I,--to tell the _pater_ how mean we feel about that beastly joke, and then run through the potential mood in the way of beseeching, imploring, exhorting him not to slave over his work in the future as he's been doing in the past months. I have a fancy that Mr. Erveng has really made him an offer for the book when completed--"

"I'm pretty sure he has, from something Mrs. Erveng said the other day," broke in Nora, with a slow nod of her head.

"Well," went on Felix, in an I-told-you-so tone of voice, "and I suppose the _pater_ thinks we're watching and measuring his progress like so many hungry hawks, just ready to swoop down and devour him--_ach_!" He threw out his hands with a gesture of disgust that somehow made us all feel ashamed, though we weren't all in it, you know.

"That isn't a bad plan," said Nora, presently. "In fact, I think it is good; only, instead of three of you going at papa about it, why not let one speak for all? He would be just as likely to listen to one as to three, and it wouldn't tire him so much,--that's _my_ opinion. What do you think, Nannie?"

Nannie shook her head dubiously; she was lying on the sofa looking awfully tired. "I'm not sure that it'll do any good," she answered; "I'm afraid papa has made up his mind to do just so much work, and he likes to carry out his intentions, you know. But I'd speak all the same," she added, "for I think he felt dreadfully cut up over that Fetich affair, and this will show him, anyhow, that you all care more for him--his well-being, I mean--than for the money the book might bring in. I fancy he has been doubtful of that sometimes. And I agree with Nora that it would be better for one to speak for the three. He is getting stronger now, and whoever is to be spokesman might, perhaps, go in to see him for a few minutes some afternoon this week. Who is it to be,--Phil?"

"Don't ask me to do it!" exclaimed Phil; "_don't_--if you want the affair to be a success. I feel mortally ashamed of my share in that joke, and I agree with Felix that _somebody_ ought to speak to the _pater_ about working so hard, and almost killing himself; but I warn you that the whole thing will be a dead failure if I have the doing of it. In the first place, he looks so wretchedly now that I can't even look at him without feeling like breaking down; and with all that, if I undertook to say to him what I'd have to, why, I'm convinced I'd get rattled,--make an ass of myself, in fact,--and do no good whatever,--for that sort of thing always makes him mad. That's just the truth,--'tisn't that I want to shirk. Why don't you do it, old fellow?" (throwing his arm across Fee's shoulders), "you always know what to say, and can do it better than I."

But Fee didn't seem willing either; _I_ think the chief reason was because he was afraid of the steps,--it's as much as he can do to get up the one short flight from his floor to the schoolroom, and he gets awfully nervous and cranky over even that short distance; but of course the others didn't know that, and he didn't want them to know, and I couldn't say anything, so everybody was very much surprised: even Nannie opened her eyes when, after a good deal of urging, he said sharply, "I am _not_ going to do it, and that settles it!"

I was afraid there'd be a fuss, so I sung out quickly, "Why don't _you_ do it, Betty? You're always saying you're equal to anything."

Well, if you had seen her face, and felt the punch she gave my shoulder! I declare Betty ought surely to've been a boy; she's entirely too strong for a girl, and rough. I will say, though, that she's been better lately; but still she breaks out every now and then, and then she hits out, perfectly regardless of whether she hurts people or not.

She just glared at me. "_Me!_ _I!_ _I_ go into papa's room and make a speech to him!" she exclaimed so loudly that Phil reminded her she needn't roar, as none of us were deaf. "Why, I couldn't, I simply _couldn't_! I'm just as bad as Phil in a sick-room,--you all know I am; I'd tumble over the chairs, or knock things off the table, or fall on the bed, or something horrid, and papa'd have me put out. Then I'm sure matters would be worse than they are now. 'Tisn't that I'm _afraid_,"--with a withering glance at me,--"and I _do_ feel awfully sorry about papa; but all the same, I don't want to be the one to speak to him about the Fetich,--I don't think it's my place: how much attention do you suppose he would pay to what _I_'d say?" She fanned herself vigorously, then added, in a milder tone, "Why not let Felix draw up a petition, and we could all sign it; then--eh--" with another withering glance--"_Jack_ could take it in to papa!"