XIX.

illus318"ON WARM MORNINGS WE WOULD SIT ON THE BEACH."I walked slowly on and on, enjoying the beauty of the scenery, until I suddenly discovered that I was directly opposite the large rock which Hilliard and I were to have "investigated" some day, but to which he had never taken me. I knew we could not do it the next day, for Mr. Endicott had invited us to spend it on his steamyacht, and the day after that I was to leave for home; so I made up my mind that that afternoon was my opportunity.Carefully gathering up my skirts,—I had on my best white gown,—I picked my way over the rocks and stepped down on the wide strip of sand which divided this rock from the others. I noticed that the beach sloped downward to the rock; but in my heedlessness I did not notice that the sand was slightly damp.On reaching the rock, I found that what had looked at a distance like an arched entrance to a cave was really some irregular steps cut out of its surface, and which led to a narrow shelf, or ledge, a little more than half-way up the tall, solid-looking mass of stone. I knew that the view from that height must be fine, and Iloveto climb; so I determined to get up to that ledge.It was not very easy,—the steps were slippery and rather far apart, and then, too, my dress bothered me, I was so afraid I would soil or tear it,—so I was a little tired and warm by the time I reached the top. But the view from there wasbeautiful!One had a clear sweep of the beach, except that smaller portion which lay behind the big rock. The shelf on which I sat, with my feet resting on the step below, was a little rounded, something of a horseshoe shape, and with the rock to lean back against I was quite comfortable. I wondered again and againwhy Hilliard had avoided showing me this place, and enjoyed every detail of the view to my heart's content,—the grand, rugged outline of the beach, the exquisite colours of the sky and water, and the crafts that went sailing and purring past. I wondered where they were all going, and made up destinations for them. Then I began counting them, so as to tell Alice at dinner; I got up to twenty-eight, and then—I must have fallen asleep.How long I slept I don't know, but I woke with a great start, conscious of some loud, unusual noise, and that something cool had fallen on my face; and for a moment what I saw turned my heart sick with terror.Everything was changed since last I had looked at it. The sky, so blue and clear then, was now covered with heavy black clouds, across which shot vivid flashes of lightning, and there were deep, fierce growls of thunder. The shining sands that I had crossed so easily but a while before had disappeared; the ocean, which had then been so far away, now covered them, and was on a level with the step on which my feet rested. The blueness of the water had gone,—it was lead-coloured, to match the sky,—and great angry, white-crested, curling waves came rolling in, tumbling over and over each other in a mad race to dash themselves against the rock on which I sat, throwing up each time aheavy shower of white, foamy spray. It was the touch of this spray on my face that had wakened me; and to my horror, the water was dancing and gurgling at my very feet!In a flash I realised that I was in great danger,—entirely cut off from the land, and on a rock that was under water at high tide!"Oh, it can't be! itcan'tbe!" I cried aloud, standing up and looking wildly around; and as I did so, a big wave broke over my feet.With a scream I scrambled back on the ledge, and stood there, clinging to the jagged points of the rock, while I called for help at the top of my voice. I shouted, and shrieked, and yelled, until I was hoarse, and the cries were driven back into my throat by the wind; but all that answered me was the roar of the storm and the screams of the sea gulls as they flew by.As the wind lulled for a minute or two, I managed to drag off the skirt of my gown and wave it, hoping to attract the attention of some passing vessel,—a long range of rocks cut off any view of the cottages on the beach,—but the next wild gust tore it out of my grasp.The water kept rising,—it was bubbling and foaming over my ankles; the waves were lashing themselves higher and higher, the rain coming down in sheets, the wind howling and raging,—I was afraid it would blow me off the ledge! and never in all my life have I heard or seen such thunder and lightning!At first I was all confused,—I was so startled that I could think of nothing but that I was going to be drowned; but after a while I quieted down, and then I remembered that I could swim. Many a swimming match had Jack and I had at the Cottage,—I should have said that I was a very good swimmer; but that was in still water, not in this terrible, cruel ocean. I made up my mind to throw myself off the ledge and strike out for the shore,—three times I thought I would, and each time shrank back and clung the closer to the rock. At last I had to admit to myself that I wasafraid!I, Betty Rose, who had always boasted that I was not afraid of anything, had to own to myself that I had not the courage to even attempt to struggle with those waves! My courage seemed all gone. I was afraid—deadlyafraid—of the waves; I screamed as each one struck me higher and higher, and I hid my face from the lightning. Oh, it was awful!awful!By and by I began to think; I still felt the rain and waves, and shrunk from the lightning, but not as I had at first, for I was thinking thoughts that had never come to me before in all my life. I could see right before me the faces of papa, and my dear brothers and sisters,—oh, how I loved them! and I should never be with them again! How they would miss me! and yet how many,manytimes had I been disagreeable,and commanding, and unkind! I loved them, but I had spoken sharply, and teased, and grumbled when I had had little services to do for them; now there would be no more opportunities. I wished that I had done differently!Then my thoughts flew off to Mrs. Erveng,—how surly and disagreeable I had behaved to her! Not once had I offered her the slightest attention; instead, I had got out of her way at every chance. I had called this being very sincere, honest, above deceit; but it did not seem like that to me now. And there was Hilliard,—I had laughed at him, been rude to him, despised him for being a coward, I wassosure of my own courage; and what was Inow?I was ashamed—ashamed!Oh, how my heart ached!Then I began saying my prayers. The water was up to my waist now; it came with such force that it swayed me from side to side, and beat me against the rock to which I still clung. My fingers were cramped by my tight grip; the next wave, or perhaps the next to that, would sweep me off—away—to death!I prayed from my very heart, with all my strength and soul, and it seemed as if the other things—the waves, the storm, the terrible death—grew fainter; a feeling came to me that I was speaking right into God's ear—that He was very near to me.Somewhere out of the roar and awfulness ofthe storm came a human voice,—a cry: "Betty! Betty! hold on! hold on! I can save you—only hold on!" And when I opened my eyes, there was a boat coming nearer and nearer, dancing on the top of the waves like a cockle shell, and in it was Hilliard!"I can't—come—too—close," he shouted. "Jump—with—the—next—wave."I understood; and with the next receding wave I leaped into the water,—a wild plunge, scarcely seeing where I was going.But Hilliard's hands caught me and hauled me into the boat, where I sank down, and lay huddled up, confused, and trembling so that I couldn't speak. Hilliard threw something over me,—the rain was coming down in torrents,—and then he pulled with all his might for the shore.Presently my senses began to come back; I knew what a terrible strain it must be to row in such a storm,—though fortunately the tide was with us,—and he had come out in it for me. I felt I ought to take my share of the work. "I—can—row. Let—me—take—an—oar," I said slowly, sitting up."Not an oar,—I need both," Hilliard answered decidedly; then he added persuasively, "Be a good girl, Betty, and just keep in the bottom of the boat."I saw that he was rowing in his shirt sleeves,—his coat was over me,—and his hat was gone; the rain was pouring down on his bare head. His face was very pale and set,—stern looking,—and the veins in his forehead were standing out like cords as he strained every nerve at the oars."I'm going for one of the coves," he shouted to me presently, "where I can run her aground."Again and again we were tossed back by the receding waves; but at last we shot into the cove, and I heard the keel grating on the rocky beach. In an instant Hilliard was overboard, and had pulled the boat up on the sand, out of reach of the highest wave. As he helped me on to the beach, I looked up in his white face, and such a sense of what he had endured for me rushed over me that I couldn't get the words out fast enough.I threw my hands out and caught hold of his shoulders: "Oh, Hilliard Erveng, youarea brave boy!" I cried out, choking up. "You are no coward; you are brave—brave!and I have been a mean, contemptible, conceited, stuck-up girl." I think I shook him a little; I was in such earnest that I hardly knew what I was doing.The rain had plastered Hilliard's hair flat to his head, and washed it into funny little points on his forehead, and there were raindrops pouring down his face; but his mouth was smiling,and his eyes were wide open and shining. He laid his hands over mine as they rested on his shoulders. "Thank God for to-day, Betty,thankGod!" he said, in a glad, excited way. "He has saved your life, and I am no longer a coward; I am no longer afraid—see!" As the lightning flashed over us he lifted his head and faced it, with lips that quivered a little, but also with unflinching eyes. "Doctor Emmons always said that I would be cured of my dread could I but face one thunder storm throughout," he added, still with that joyous ring in his voice. "And now I've done it! I've done it; I amfree!""Oh! I am soglad!soverythankful!" I began, and then broke down and burst into a violent fit of crying.I couldn't stop crying, though Ididtry hard to control my tears; and my knees shook so that I could hardly walk. Hilliard almost carried me along until we met Jim the coachman and Mr. Erveng on the beach. Mr. Erveng had just got home, and heard that Hilliard and I were out in the storm. Then between them they got me to the house, where Mrs. Erveng and Alice and her mother were anxiously waiting for us.How glad they were to see us! and how they all kissed and hugged me! Mrs. Erveng took me right into her arms.Everybody began talking at once. I heardAlice say, "As soon as we missed you, and Dillon said she had seen you walking toward that part of the beach, Hilliard declared you were on the rock,—he seemed to guess it. And he was off for the boat like a flash,—he wouldn't even wait for Jim; he said every minute was precious—"I lost the rest; a horrid rushing noise came in my ears, everything got black before me, and I fainted, for the very first time in my life.It is now nearly a week since all this happened, and to-morrow I am going home—to the Cottage. I was so stiff and tired from the beating of the waves that Mrs. Erveng kept me in bed for several days, and telegraphed the family not to expect me until Thursday; otherwise neither Hilliard nor I have suffered from our drenching in that awful storm. Mrs. Endicott and Alice are going as far as New York with me, and there Phil will meet me and take me home.I shall beveryglad to be with my own dear ones again,—it seems an age since I saw them; and I long to talk to Nannie, and tell her everything. Still,now, I'm not sorry that I came here. I think that I shall never forget my visit to Endicott Beach.XIX.HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER.TOLD BY JACK.NORA was playing a sweet, wild Hungarian melody on the piano, the boys were on the stoop talking to Chad,—every now and then the sound of their voices came in through the open windows,—and I sat under the drawing-room chandelier reading. Presently Chad came in, and, leaning on the piano, began talking to Nora in a low tone; and without stopping her music, she talked back, in the same tone of voice.illus330"WITHOUT STOPPING HER MUSIC, SHE TALKED BACK, IN THE SAMETONE OF VOICE."The story I was reading was A 1, and I'd got to averythrilling place, where the boy comes face to face with an infuriated tiger, when I heard something said outside that just took all the interest out of my book. Phil was speaking sharply,—I wondered Nora and Chad didn't hear him. "What's thematterwith you?" he flared out. "I declare, you're getting as fussy as an old cat! I won't stand the way you're watching me, and you've just got to drop it.I'm not ababy, to be tied to anybody's apron-strings! I'll go and come as I please."I didn't hear what Fee said to this, but Phil's answer to it was quite loud: "Yes, Iamgoing,—to-night, and to-morrow night, and any other night I please. Theideaof a fellow of my age not being able to go out for a walk without asking your permission!"illus332"THE STORY I WAS READINGWAS A 1.""When you talk like that you are downright silly!" broke in Felix. I could tell by his voice he was trying hard to control his temper. "'Tisn't the going out that anybody objects to; it's the person you're going with. You know very well, Phil, that he isn't the sort of fellow to do you any good. I sized him up the very first time we saw him, and I still hold to my opinion,—he's ab-a-dlot.""A-c-h!you make me tired!" exclaimed Phil,—that's a favourite expression of his when he's cornered,—and leaning in through thewindow, he called, "See here, Chad; any time to-night!""Yes, A'm coming," Chad called back, and bidding Nora good-night, he went out; a minute after I heard their steps as Phil and he ran down the stoop and passed by the drawing-room windows.Laying my book down quietly and very quickly, I ran out on the stoop. Fee sat there with his elbows on his knees, and his chin resting on his clasped hands, staring at nothing. Dropping down beside him, I slipped my hand in his arm and squeezed it to me. "I heard Phil," I said. "I'm awfully sorry hewouldgo.""Yes," Fee answered, but in a way that I knew he wasn't thinking of what he was saying.We sat quiet for a little while, then Felix turned suddenly and laid his hand on my knee. "Jack," he said earnestly, "I've made up my mind about something that's been bothering me since last night. What I'm going to do may turn out right, it may turn out wrong,—God only knows; but it seems right to me, and I'm going to try it. I dread it, though,—justdreadit. If I hadn't promised—" He broke off abruptly, and turned his head away. I wanted to say something to him, but I couldn't think of athing.In a minute Felix began again. "Tell me honestly, Jack," he said, "do you think thatPhil cares as much for me as he used to,—I mean before that fellow Chad came?""Why, Fee!" I exclaimed, "of coursehe loves you just as well; Iknowhe does,—we all love youdearly!" Do you know, it just hurt me to have him think Phil could let a person like Chad come between them. Of course, as nurse says, we have our ups and downs; we get mad with one another sometimes, and all that, you know; but still we do love one another dearly, and we'd stand up for the different ones like everything, if need be. We've always been very proud of Fee,—he's so clever, you see; but since that night that I'm going to tell you about, I just think my brother Felix is the noblest, bravest, truest boy in the world! I've always loved Fee very dearly; but now,—well, now I have a feeling that I would be willing to give my life for him. Poor old Fee!When I said that so positively about Phil's caring, I could see Fee was pleased; his face brightened up. "Well, perhaps he does," he said. "He's been very cranky lately, and sharp to me,—in fact to everybody; but I have a feeling that that's because he isn't really satisfied with the way he's acting. I tell you, Jack, Phil's a good fellow,"—Fee pounded his hand down on his knee as he spoke; "it isn't easy for him to do wrong. And he isn't up to Chad's tricks, or the set he's got him into. They'veflattered Phil first, and that has turned his head; and then they've laughed at him for not doing the things they do, and that's nettled him,—until they've got him all their way. I know what they are,—I can see through their cunning; but Phil isn't so sharp. There are people in this world, Jack, so contemptible and wicked that they hate to have anybody better than they are themselves, and Chad and his crowd belong to that class. If I'd been able to go about with Phil as I used to, they'dneverhave had the chance to get hold of him. And as it is, now that I've found out their game, I'm going to stop the whole business, and bring Phil to his senses. He's too fine a fellow for those rascals to spoil. I'll stop it—I'll stop it, no matterwhatit costs me!"Oh, how often I've thought of those words since that dreadful night! And yet, I have a feeling that even if he had known, he would have gone—I tell you, there isn't another boy in all the world like our Felix!Fee's voice was shaking, and he got on his feet as if he were going to start that very minute; but before I could say anything he began again: "I've got a plan,—not a very good one, I must confess, but it's the best I can think of, and it may work; that is, if Phil has as much of the old feeling for me as you think, Jack: I'm building a good deal on that,—I hope Iwon't get left. He may turn obstinate,—you know hecanbe a very donkey sometimes; and I suppose he'll get furiously mad. Well, I'll have to stand that,—if only he doesn't blaze out at me before those cads;thatwould cut meawfully. But that I'll have to risk; he's worth it. Now, Jack, I want you to help me,—to go somewhere with me, I mean. I'm sorry to have to ask this, for it's no place for a youngster like you; but I think you're one of the kind that won't be hurt by such things, Rosebud,"—putting his hand on my arm,—"and I'm so unsteady on my feet that I am afraid I really couldn't get along alone. Get your hat—and my cane."In a minute I had both, and we went down the stoop together. At the foot of the steps Fee stopped, and taking off his hat, began pushing his hair back off his forehead. I could see he was nervous. "Suppose thisshouldn'tbe the right thing that I'm going to do; suppose it should make matters worse," he said undecidedly, almost irritably. "Now, if Nannie were here—I haven't a creature to advise me!""Ithink you're doing right, Fee," I began. I didn't remember until afterward that I really didn't know what his plan was; but I don't think he heard what I said, for he went on in a low tone, as if he were talking to himself: "Suppose he gets furiously angry, and pitches into me before those low fellows,—you never know whatPhil's going to say when he gets mad,—andwill notcome home with me, what'll I dothen? It's a risk. And if this plan fails, I don't know what else to do. Had I better just let things drift along as they are until we get in the country, and then speak to him? Idreada row before that crowd; they'd just set him up against me. And yet—a week more of nights to come home as he did last night, and the night before that—oughtI to let that go on? What wouldshesay to do?"He stood with his head bent, thinking,—his hat and cane in one hand, and holding on to the stone newel-post with the other. And as we waited the gay strains of Nora's waltz came to us through the windows; since that night I just hate to hear her play that piece.Presently Felix looked up at me with the faintest little smile. "I came pretty near asking you to write me down a coward, Jack," he said; "but I'm all right again. Now for your part of this affair: If Phil will come back with me, as I hope, you'll have to make your way home alone, without letting him know of your being there. Try and manage it. If he gets ugly, and willnotleave that crowd, why, then we—you and I—'ll have to travel back as we went. You must judge for yourself, Rosebud, whether to go, or to stay for me; I'll have enough to do, you know, to manage Phil. Apart from that, haveas little to do in the matter as possible; ask no questions, speak to no one, and see and hear no more than you can help. All right?""Yes," I answered quickly, "and I only wish I could do more for you, Fee."Felix put his hand on my shoulder for a rest, as he usually did when we walked together. "You've been a real comfort to me, Jack, since Nannie went away," he said. I tell you that meantlotsfrom him, and I knew it; I just put up my hand and squeezed Fee's fingers as they rested on my coat; then we started off.On Fee's account we walked very slowly; but after a while we came to a house with a very low stoop,—just a step or two from the ground. There were handsome glass doors to the vestibule, and the rather small hall was brilliantly lighted up. I fancied that the man who opened the door looked at me as if he thought I had no business there; but Felix marched right by him and stepped into the elevator, and of course I followed."Mr. Whitcombe," said Fee; and then I knew that we were in the apartment house where Chad has his "bachelor quarters.""Turn to your left," said the elevator man, as he let us out. We did so, and just as we got opposite the door with the big silver knob and old bronze knocker that Chad had told us he brought from Europe, it opened, and some onecame out. Well, truly, he didn't look any older than fifteen,—two years older than I am, mind you,—but if he didn't have on a long-tailed evening coat, an awfully high stand-up collar, and a tall silk hat! You can't think what a queer figure he was,—like a caricature.Before he could shut the door, Felix lifted his hat, and then put out his hand quickly. "Allow me," he said politely; and the next moment we were in Chad's hall, with his front door closed behind us.At the other end of this hall was a room very brightly lighted; the portière was pushed almost entirely aside, and we could see some young fellows seated round a table. Nearly all had cigars or cigarettes in their mouths,—Phil, too; the room was just thick with smoke, and they were playing cards."Sit where they can't see you," Fee whispered to me; "and if you find Phil will go home with me, just slide out without letting him know of your being here. Oh, Jack, if I canonlysucceed!" He gave my hand a little squeeze—though it was a warm evening, his fingers were cold—and then walked up the hall and stood in the doorway of Chad's room."Hullo!you!Oh—aw—come in—aw—glad to see you! Take a chair," Chad said, in a tone of voice that told he was taken all aback; while Phil was so startled that he dropped hiscigarette and called out roughly, "What the mischief areyoudoing here?"Of course they all looked at Felix; but he answered carelessly, "Oh, I thought I'd accept a long-standing invitation,"—with a little bow toward Chad,—"and drop in for a while.""Oh, certainly, certainly—aw—glad to see you!" exclaimed Chad."Who's with you?" demanded Phil; but Fee didn't answer him: he just went forward and took the place that one of the fellows made between himself and Phil. And then Chad began introducing Felix to the others.From where I sat on the hat-rack settle,—it was the most shielded place in the hall, and near the door,—I had a full view of the people sitting on one side of the table, and particularly of Felix and Phil, who were almost directly under the glare of the light. Fee's face was as white as marble, except a red spot on each cheek, and there was a delicate look about his eyes and temples, and round his mouth, that I hadn't noticed before. Somehow his fine, regular features and splendid, broad white forehead made me think of the head of the Young Augustus that the Unsworths have.But Phil certainly didn't look like any marble statue; his face was very red and cross, and he was scowling until his eyebrows made a thick black line above his eyes. He was disagreeable,too,—rough and quarrelsome, something like that night when he came home so late, and hurt my feelings. When, in reply to an invitation from Chad, Felix said he would join the game, Phil sung out in a kind of ordering tone, "What's the sense of spoiling the fun for everybody? You know nothing about cards; why don't you look on?""Because I prefer playing," answered Fee, smiling; "it's the quickest and surest way of learning, I believe,"—with a glance round the company. "What are the stakes?"He drew a handful of money from his pocket, and laid it before him on the table."Don't make an ass of yourself, Felix!" Phil exclaimed angrily, laying a hand right over the little pile of silver. "We're not fooling here; we're playing in dead earnest, and you will lose every cent of your money."Some of the fellows snickered, and one called out sharply, "Look out what you're saying, Rose."I saw the red spots on Fee's cheeks grow brighter. "Iam goingto play," he said quietly, but looking Phil steadily in the eyes; "so please don't interfere.""Evidently you've never learned that 'consistency is a jewel'!" Phil retorted with a sneer. I suppose he was thinking of what Fee had said that evening on the stoop.But Felix only answered good-naturedly, "Oh, yes, I have; that used to be one of our copy-book axioms," and then they all began to play.Well, Phil's face was a study,—it grew blacker and blacker as the game went on, and Fee kept losing; and he got very disagreeable,—trying to chaff Felix, almost as if he wanted to make him mad. But Fee just turned it off as pleasantly as he could. Those fellows made it ever so much harder, though; they got off thesilliestspeeches, and then roared with laughter over them, as if they were jokes. And, in a sly kind of way, they egged Phil on to quarrel with Fee,—laughing at all his speeches, and pretending that they thought Phil was afraid of Felix. And Chad joined in, I could hear his affected laugh and drawl above all the others; I felt how that must cut Fee!There were some decanters and glasses on a side table, and every now and then Chad urged his friends to drink, and he would get up and wait on them. Felix refused every time, and Phil did too at first, until those common fellows began to twit him about it,—as much as saying that he was afraid to take anything 'cause Fee would "go home and tell on him." What did Phil do then—the silly fellow! 'twas just what they wanted—but snatch up a glass and swallow down a lot of that vile stuff! Well, Iwas somadwith Phil! I'd have liked to go right in and punch him. Felix never said a word ('twouldn't have done the least good,—Phil can be like a mule sometimes); he just sat there with his lips pressed tight together, looking down at the cards he held in his hands.After that Phil's face got awfully red, and how his tongue did run! Real ugly things he said, too, and perfectly regardless who he said them to. And those fellows gotveryboisterous, and began again trying to tease our boys. I wassoafraid there'd be a row; and there surely would have been, if Felix hadn't just worked as he did to prevent it. I tell you now, it was awfully hard to sit out there in that hall and hear those fellows carrying on against my brothers,—you see I was so near I couldn't help it, I justhadto hear everything,—and not be able to take their part.Fee kept getting whiter and whiter, the spots on his cheeks redder and redder; and by and by such a tired look came in his face that I got real worked up. I felt as if Imustgo in and just pitch right into those fellows. Almost before I knew it, I'd got up and gone a step or two in the hall, when suddenly Phil dashed his cards down on the table, and got on his feet. "I'm going home!" he declared. "Are you coming?" turning to Felix."You sha'n't go!" "Oh,don'tgo!" "You'vegotto finish the game," several called out. But Phil just repeated doggedly, "I'm going home! Are you coming or not, Felix?"This was just what Fee wanted,—I knew how glad and thankful he must feel. But all he said was, "Yes, I'll go with you, if our host will excuse us," rising as he spoke and nodding his head toward Chad.Those unmannerly things burst out laughing, as if this were a great joke; and with a smothered exclamation, Phil started for the door, knocking over a chair as he went.Well, if you had seen me scoot down that hall and out of the door! I simplyflew, and barely got round the corner in the shadow, when Phil and Felix came along. Phil looked like a thundercloud, and instead of leaning on his arm, Fee just had hold of a piece of Phil's sleeve. They marched along in dead silence, and got into the elevator.I hung around a little, until I was sure they were out of the way, then I went down; the elevator man looked harder than ever at me,—I suppose he wondered why I hadn't gone with Fee,—but I pretended I didn't notice.I'd never been out very late alone before, and at first it seemed queer; but I hurried, so that I soon forgot all about that. You see I wanted to get home before the boys did, and yet I had to look out that I didn't run across them.I hadn't thought of the time at Chad's; but we must have been there a good while, for when I got to the house the drawing-room windows were closed, and so was the front door. I don't know what I'd have done if cook hadn't come to close the basement door just as I got to our stoop, and I slipped in that way. "MasterJack!" she cried out, holding up her hands in horror; "a little b'y like you out late's this! What'd your pa say to such doin's, an' Miss Marston? An' there's Miss Nora gone to bed, thinkin' it's safe an' aslape ye are.""Oh, hush, cook! it'sallright. Don't say anything; please don't," I said softly; then I let her go upstairs ahead of me.The drawing-room was all dark, and the light in the hall was turned down low. The house was very quiet,—everybody had gone to bed; and after thinking it over, I made up my mind I'd wait downstairs and let the boys in before they could ring,—I forgot that Phil had taken possession of papa's latch-key, and was using it. I sat on the steps listening, and what d'you think? I must have fallen asleep, for the first thing I knew there were Phil and Felix in the hall, and Phil was closing the front door. "Oh, I see,—as usual, our gentle Rosebud's to the front," exclaimed Phil, still keeping his hand on the knob of the door; "all right, then he can help you upstairs," and he turned as if to go out."What!" Fee cried out in a sharp, startled voice, "you arenevergoing back to that crowd!""That's just what Iamgoing to do," answered Phil; his voice sounded thick and gruff. "Shall I give your love?"Felix caught him by the arm. "Don'tgo, Phil," he pleaded; "don'tgo back to-night,pleasedon't. We've had enough of them for one evening. Come, let's go upstairs. Won't you? I have a good reason for what I'm asking, and I'll explain to-morrow."Phil came a step or two forward, shaking Fee's hand off. "Look here!" he said sharply, "this thing might's well be settled right here, and once for all. I'm a man, not a child, I'll have you to understand, and I'm not going to be controlled by you. Just remember that, and don't try any more of your little games on me, as you have to-night, for Iwill notstand 'em! The idea of your coming up there among those fellows and making such an ass of yourself—""The asinine part of this evening's performance belongs to you and your friends, not to me," broke in Felix, hotly,—Phil's tone wassoinsolent. "And there are a few things thatyoumight as well understand, too," he went on more calmly. "If you continue to go to Chad's, I shall go, too; if you make those fellows your boon companions, they shall be mine as well; if you continue to drink and gamble, as you'vebeen doing lately, and to-night, I will drink and gamble, too. I mean every word I am saying, Phil. It may go against the grain at first to associate with such cads as Chad and his crowd; but perhaps that'll wear away in time, and I may come to enjoy what I now abhor. As these low pleasures have fascinated you, so they may fascinate me.""If youeverput your foot in Chad Whitcombe's house again, I'll make him turn you out," cried Phil, in a rage, shaking his finger at Felix. "Why, you donkey! less than three months of that sort of life'd use you up completely. I'll fix you, if you ever undertake to try it; I'll go straight to thepater,—I swear I will.""No need to do that, old fellow," Fee said, insucha loving voice! "Just drop that set you've got into, and be your own upright, honourable self again, and you shall never hear another word of such talk out of me. But," he added earnestly, "Icannot, I will not stand seeing you, my brother, my chum, our mother's son"—Fee's voice shook—"going all wrong, without lifting a finger to save you. Why, Phil, I'd give my very life, if need be, to keep you from becoming a drunkard and a gambler.Don'tgo back to those fellows to-night, dear old boy; for—forhersake,don'tgo!" Felix was pleading with his whole heart in his voice, looking eagerly,entreatingly up at Phil, and holding out his hands to him.My throat was just filling up as Fee spoke,—I could almost have cried; and I'm sure Phil was touched, too, but he tried not to let us see it. He sort of scuffled his feet on the marble tiling of the hall, and cleared his throat in the most indifferent way, looking up at the gas fixture. "Perhaps I will drop them by and by," he said carelessly, "but I can't just yet,—in fact, I don't want to just yet; I have a reason. And that reminds me—Imustgo back to-night. Now don't getsillyover me, Felix; there's no danger whatever of my becoming a drunkard or a gambler,—nice opinion of me you must have!—and I'm quite equal to taking care of myself. As I've told you several times before, I'm a man now, not a child, and I willnothave you or anybody running round after me. Just remember that!" As he spoke, he turned deliberately to go out.Then Fee did a foolish thing; he ought to have known Phil better, but he was so awfully disappointed that I guess he forgot. In about one second—I don't know how heevergot there so quickly—he had limped to the door, and planted himself with his back against it. His face was just aswhite! and his lips were set tight together, and he held his head up in the air, looking Phil square in the eye.A horrid nervous feeling came over me,—I justfeltthere was going to be trouble. I stood up on the steps quickly, and called out, "Oh, boys,don'tquarrel! Oh, please,pleasedon't quarrel!" But Phil was talking, and I don't believe they even heard me."Get away from that door,—I'm going out!" Phil commanded.Not a word answered Fee; he just stood there, his eyes shining steadily up at Phil through his glasses."Do you hear me?" Phil said savagely. "Get—out—of—the—way. I don't want to hurt you, but I amdeterminedto go out. Come,—move!"He stepped nearer Felix, with a peremptory wave of his hand, and glowered at him. But Fee didn't flinch. "No," he said quietly, but in just as positive a tone as Phil's, "I willnotmove." Then, suddenly, a sweet, quick smile flashed over his face, and he threw his hands out on Phil's shoulders as he stood before him, saying, in that winning way of his, "I'm not a bit afraid ofyourever hurting me, old Lion-heart."I heard every word distinctly, but Phil didn't; in his rage he only caught the first part of what Fee said, and with a sharp, angry exclamation he shoved Felix violently aside, and, hastily opening the door, stepped into the vestibule.Fee was so completely taken by surprise—poor old Fee!—that he lost his balance, swung to one side with the force of Phil's elbow, striking his back against the sharp edge of the hall chair, and fell to the floor.I can't tell you the awful feeling that came over me when I saw Fee lying there; I gotwild! I dashed down those steps and into the vestibule before Phil had had time to even turn the handle of the outer door, and, locking my hands tight round his arm, I tried to drag him back into the hall. "Come back," I cried out; "come back—oh, come back!""Hullo! what's happened to you,—crazy?" demanded Phil, giving his arm a shake; but I hung on with all my weight. And then I said something about Felix; I don't remember now what it was,—I hardly knew what I was saying,—but, with a sharp cry, Phil threw me from him and rushed back into the hall.When I got to him, Phil was kneeling by Felix, with his hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. "Fee,Fee!" he exclaimed breathlessly, "what's the matter? Are you hurt? Are you, Fee? Oh,tellme!" But Fee didn't answer; he just lay there, his face half resting on the arm he had thrown out in falling; his glasses had tumbled off, and his eyes were closed.In an instant Phil had rolled him over on his back on the hall rug, and I slipped my armunder his head. Fee lookeddreadfully,—white as death, with big black shadows under his eyes; and such a sad, pitiful expression about his mouth that I burst out crying."Oh, hush, hush!" Phil cried eagerly; "he's coming to himself. Oh, thank God! Stop your crying, Jack,—you'll frighten him."But he was mistaken; Fee wasn't coming to,—he lay there white and perfectly still. Oh, how we worked over him! We took off his necktie and collar, we poured water on his forehead, and fanned him, and rubbed his hands and feet with hands that were as cold as his own, and trembling. And Phil kept saying, "Oh, Jack, he'll soon be better,—don't you think so?don'tyou, Jack? Oh, surely, such alittlefall couldn't be serious! hecouldn'thave struck himself on that chair,—see, it's entirely out of his way," with such a piteous pleading in his eyes and voice that I hadn't the heart to contradict him.Nothing that we did had any effect; Fee still lay unconscious, and there was a pinched look about his features, a limp heaviness about his body, that struck terror to our hearts. "Oh, isn't thisawful!" I sobbed. Then all at once I thought of that day I found Felix lying on the floor,—could this be an attack like that, only worse? His words, "What'll thenextone be!" flashed into my mind, and I burst out eagerly,"Oh, Phil, call somebody—go for the doctor—quick, quick, oh, do bequick! The doctor will know what to do—he can help him—call nurse—oh, callsomebody!"But Phil suddenly dropped Felix's hand that he'd been rubbing, and bending down laid his ear on Fee's chest over his heart. I shall never forget the awful horror that was in his white face when he lifted it and looked at me across Fee's body. "Jack," he said in a slow, shrill whisper, that just went through my ears like a knife, "Jack, it's no use; Fee is—"But I screamed out before he could say that dreadful word,—a loud scream that rang through the house and woke the people up.In a confused sort of way—as if I had dreamed it—I remember that Nora came flying down the stairs in her dressing-gown and bare feet, and nurse hurrying behind her, both crying out in a frightened way,—something like, "Oh,lawkes! whathavethem boys been doin'?" and, "Oh, boys,boys! whatisthe matter?"But Phil's answer stands out clear,—I can hear it every time I let myself think of that awful night. He had pushed me aside, and was sitting on the floor with Fee's body gathered in his arms, Fee's face lying against his shoulder. He looked up at Nora; his dry, white lips could hardly utter the words. "Fee is dead," he said; "I have killed Felix!"XX.A SOLEMN PROMISE.TOLD BY JACK.FOR a little while there was a dreadful commotion down there in the hall. Hannah and cook had come, too, by this time, and everybody was crying, and rushing about, and all talking at once,—telling everybody else what to do. Poor Nonie was awfully frightened; at first she couldn't do a thing but cry, and I was just as bad,—I'd got to that pitch that I didn't care who saw my tears.But nurse kept her head splendidly; generally she gets all worked up over the least little sickness, but this time she kept cool, and told us what to do."Don't talk so foolish, Master Phil!" she exclaimed sharply, when Phil said that awful thing about Fee. "Ain't you ashamed of yourself,—frightening your sister that way! He ain't no more dead 'n you are."Well, if you'd seen the look of hope that flashed into Phil's face! "Oh, nurse!" hegasped, "do youhonestlythink so? But he isn't breathing,—I can't feel his heart beat.""That's 'cause he's in a swoond," nurse answered briskly. "Here, lay him down flat. Now rub his feet—hard; Hannah, slap his palms,—that'll start up a cirkilation. Here, Miss Nora, fan your brother. Cook, fill them hot-water bottles; if the water in the biler ain't hot 'nough, start your fireimmejiate. Master Jack, you run for the doctor; an' if he can't come," she added, dropping her voice so that only I heard her, "get another. Don't you come back here withoutsomebody. An' be quick's you can."That told me that she wasn't as sure about Fee as she pretended to be, and the hope that had come up in my heart died right out. My eyes got so blinded with tears that I just had to grope for my hat; but as I was opening the outer door, I heard something that brought me in again in double quick time.It was a cry from Phil,—a shout of joy: "Heisbreathing! Oh, he'sbreathing! His eyes are opening!"Sure enough, they were. Slowly the heavy lids raised, and Fee's near-sighted eyes looked blankly up at Phil."Don't you know me, old fellow?" Phil asked with a break in his voice, bending eagerly over Felix.A sweet little smile flickered over Fee's lips. "Phil," he said faintly; and then, with what we could all see was a great effort, he raised his hand slowly and let it fall heavily on Phil's hand.Poor Phil! that broke him down completely. Catching Fee's face between his two hands, he kissed him warmly two or three times, and then, dropping his head down on Fee's shoulder, burst into a storm of sobs."Oh, come, come! this'llneverdo!" cried nurse, bustling forward. "Come, Master Phil, this ain't any time for sich behaviour,"—mind you, she was wiping the corners of her own eyes! "Now we must get him up to his own room soon's possible;thenwe can make him comfort'ble. Can you carry him up? Me and Hannah can help.""I can do it alone," Phil said quickly, beginning to gather Fee into his arms. But I tell you it was hard work getting him up, he was such a dead weight!Fee knew Phil was making a desperate effort to lift him, and he tried, poor fellow, to help all he could. When at last Phil stood erect, with him in his arms, nurse raised Fee's hands and joined them back of Phil's neck. "Now clasp your hands tight, Master Felix," she said, "and that'll take some of your weight off your brother."Fee's hands were actually resting one on the other, and I saw his fingers move feebly, trying to take hold of one another. Then he said in a slow, frightened whisper, "I—can't—make—them—hold!" and his arms slipped down, one of them swinging helplessly by his side, until nurse laid it in his lap."Never mind, don't worry about that, Fee; I can get you up," Phil said cheerfully. "Why, don't you remember I took you almost up to your room the other night?"Nora and I looked at each other. I know we were both thinking of the same thing,—that happy evening when we heard of aunt Lindsay's plan for Fee, and when Phil had picked Felix up and run so gaily up the stairs with him, singing. Was it possible that was only three or four evenings ago! It seemedyears."Run for the doctor, Master Jack—don'tloiter," nurse said, as she fell in with the procession that was moving so slowly up the stairs; Phil was going one step at a time, and sometimes sliding himself along against the banister to rest the weight he was carrying.I rushed out and up to Dr. Archard's as fast as I could go. The streets through which I went were very lonely,—I scarcely met a creature,—but I didn't mind; in fact, the stillness, and the stars shining so clear and bright in the quiet sky, seemed to do me good. I knew Whowas up there above those shining stars; I thought of the poor lame man that He had healed long ago, and as I raced along, I justprayedthat He would help our Fee.Dr. Archard was away, out of town, the sleepy boy who answered the bell told me; but Dr. Gordon, his assistant, was in,—would he do?I didn't know him at all,—he'd come since papa's illness; but of course I said yes, and in a few minutes the doctor was ready and we started.He had a nice face,—he was years younger than Dr. Archard,—and as we hurried toward home and began talking of Felix, I suddenly made up my mind that I would tell him about the attack Fee had had when papa was so ill. That promise of mine not to speak of it had always worried me, and now, all at once, a feeling came over me that I justoughtto tell Dr. Gordon everything about it,—and I did.He asked a lot of questions, and when I finished he said gravely, "You have done very right in telling me of this; the knowledge of this former attack and his symptoms will help me in treating your brother's case.""Is it the same trouble?" I asked eagerly."Certain symptoms which you have described point that way," he answered; "but of course I can say nothing until I have seen and examined him.""Could such an accident"—I'd told him that Fee had struck his back against a chair and then fallen—"do anybody—harm?" My heart was thumping as I put the question."Under some circumstances, serious harm," the doctor said. And just then—before I could say anything more—we came to our stoop, and there was Hannah holding the door open for us to go in.The doctor turned every one out of Fee's room but Phil and nurse; and he was in there an awful long time. And while Nonie and I sat on the upper stairs waiting for news, what did I do but fallasleep! and I didn't wake up until the next morning, when I found myself in my own bed. It seems that Phil had undressed and put me to bed, though I didn't remember a thing about it. I felt dreadfully ashamed to have gone to sleep without hearing how Fee was, but you see I was so dead tired, that I suppose I reallycouldn'tkeep awake.Did you ever wake up in the morning with a strange sort of feeling as if there was a weight on your heart, and then remember that something dreadful had happened the night before? Well, then you know just how I felt the morning after Fee got hurt. For a moment or two I tried to make myself believe it was all a bad dream; but there sat Phil on the edge of our bed, andthe sight of his wretched white face brought back the whole thing only too plainly."Oh! how is Fee?" I exclaimed, sitting up in bed. "What does the doctor say about him?"Phil's elbow was resting on his knee, his chin in his palm. "The doctor says," he answered, with, oh! such a look of misery in his tired eyes, "that Felix is not in danger of death, but it looks now as if hemight not be able to walk again!"

illus318"ON WARM MORNINGS WE WOULD SIT ON THE BEACH."

I walked slowly on and on, enjoying the beauty of the scenery, until I suddenly discovered that I was directly opposite the large rock which Hilliard and I were to have "investigated" some day, but to which he had never taken me. I knew we could not do it the next day, for Mr. Endicott had invited us to spend it on his steamyacht, and the day after that I was to leave for home; so I made up my mind that that afternoon was my opportunity.

Carefully gathering up my skirts,—I had on my best white gown,—I picked my way over the rocks and stepped down on the wide strip of sand which divided this rock from the others. I noticed that the beach sloped downward to the rock; but in my heedlessness I did not notice that the sand was slightly damp.

On reaching the rock, I found that what had looked at a distance like an arched entrance to a cave was really some irregular steps cut out of its surface, and which led to a narrow shelf, or ledge, a little more than half-way up the tall, solid-looking mass of stone. I knew that the view from that height must be fine, and Iloveto climb; so I determined to get up to that ledge.

It was not very easy,—the steps were slippery and rather far apart, and then, too, my dress bothered me, I was so afraid I would soil or tear it,—so I was a little tired and warm by the time I reached the top. But the view from there wasbeautiful!One had a clear sweep of the beach, except that smaller portion which lay behind the big rock. The shelf on which I sat, with my feet resting on the step below, was a little rounded, something of a horseshoe shape, and with the rock to lean back against I was quite comfortable. I wondered again and againwhy Hilliard had avoided showing me this place, and enjoyed every detail of the view to my heart's content,—the grand, rugged outline of the beach, the exquisite colours of the sky and water, and the crafts that went sailing and purring past. I wondered where they were all going, and made up destinations for them. Then I began counting them, so as to tell Alice at dinner; I got up to twenty-eight, and then—I must have fallen asleep.

How long I slept I don't know, but I woke with a great start, conscious of some loud, unusual noise, and that something cool had fallen on my face; and for a moment what I saw turned my heart sick with terror.

Everything was changed since last I had looked at it. The sky, so blue and clear then, was now covered with heavy black clouds, across which shot vivid flashes of lightning, and there were deep, fierce growls of thunder. The shining sands that I had crossed so easily but a while before had disappeared; the ocean, which had then been so far away, now covered them, and was on a level with the step on which my feet rested. The blueness of the water had gone,—it was lead-coloured, to match the sky,—and great angry, white-crested, curling waves came rolling in, tumbling over and over each other in a mad race to dash themselves against the rock on which I sat, throwing up each time aheavy shower of white, foamy spray. It was the touch of this spray on my face that had wakened me; and to my horror, the water was dancing and gurgling at my very feet!

In a flash I realised that I was in great danger,—entirely cut off from the land, and on a rock that was under water at high tide!

"Oh, it can't be! itcan'tbe!" I cried aloud, standing up and looking wildly around; and as I did so, a big wave broke over my feet.

With a scream I scrambled back on the ledge, and stood there, clinging to the jagged points of the rock, while I called for help at the top of my voice. I shouted, and shrieked, and yelled, until I was hoarse, and the cries were driven back into my throat by the wind; but all that answered me was the roar of the storm and the screams of the sea gulls as they flew by.

As the wind lulled for a minute or two, I managed to drag off the skirt of my gown and wave it, hoping to attract the attention of some passing vessel,—a long range of rocks cut off any view of the cottages on the beach,—but the next wild gust tore it out of my grasp.

The water kept rising,—it was bubbling and foaming over my ankles; the waves were lashing themselves higher and higher, the rain coming down in sheets, the wind howling and raging,—I was afraid it would blow me off the ledge! and never in all my life have I heard or seen such thunder and lightning!

At first I was all confused,—I was so startled that I could think of nothing but that I was going to be drowned; but after a while I quieted down, and then I remembered that I could swim. Many a swimming match had Jack and I had at the Cottage,—I should have said that I was a very good swimmer; but that was in still water, not in this terrible, cruel ocean. I made up my mind to throw myself off the ledge and strike out for the shore,—three times I thought I would, and each time shrank back and clung the closer to the rock. At last I had to admit to myself that I wasafraid!I, Betty Rose, who had always boasted that I was not afraid of anything, had to own to myself that I had not the courage to even attempt to struggle with those waves! My courage seemed all gone. I was afraid—deadlyafraid—of the waves; I screamed as each one struck me higher and higher, and I hid my face from the lightning. Oh, it was awful!awful!

By and by I began to think; I still felt the rain and waves, and shrunk from the lightning, but not as I had at first, for I was thinking thoughts that had never come to me before in all my life. I could see right before me the faces of papa, and my dear brothers and sisters,—oh, how I loved them! and I should never be with them again! How they would miss me! and yet how many,manytimes had I been disagreeable,and commanding, and unkind! I loved them, but I had spoken sharply, and teased, and grumbled when I had had little services to do for them; now there would be no more opportunities. I wished that I had done differently!

Then my thoughts flew off to Mrs. Erveng,—how surly and disagreeable I had behaved to her! Not once had I offered her the slightest attention; instead, I had got out of her way at every chance. I had called this being very sincere, honest, above deceit; but it did not seem like that to me now. And there was Hilliard,—I had laughed at him, been rude to him, despised him for being a coward, I wassosure of my own courage; and what was Inow?I was ashamed—ashamed!Oh, how my heart ached!

Then I began saying my prayers. The water was up to my waist now; it came with such force that it swayed me from side to side, and beat me against the rock to which I still clung. My fingers were cramped by my tight grip; the next wave, or perhaps the next to that, would sweep me off—away—to death!

I prayed from my very heart, with all my strength and soul, and it seemed as if the other things—the waves, the storm, the terrible death—grew fainter; a feeling came to me that I was speaking right into God's ear—that He was very near to me.

Somewhere out of the roar and awfulness ofthe storm came a human voice,—a cry: "Betty! Betty! hold on! hold on! I can save you—only hold on!" And when I opened my eyes, there was a boat coming nearer and nearer, dancing on the top of the waves like a cockle shell, and in it was Hilliard!

"I can't—come—too—close," he shouted. "Jump—with—the—next—wave."

I understood; and with the next receding wave I leaped into the water,—a wild plunge, scarcely seeing where I was going.

But Hilliard's hands caught me and hauled me into the boat, where I sank down, and lay huddled up, confused, and trembling so that I couldn't speak. Hilliard threw something over me,—the rain was coming down in torrents,—and then he pulled with all his might for the shore.

Presently my senses began to come back; I knew what a terrible strain it must be to row in such a storm,—though fortunately the tide was with us,—and he had come out in it for me. I felt I ought to take my share of the work. "I—can—row. Let—me—take—an—oar," I said slowly, sitting up.

"Not an oar,—I need both," Hilliard answered decidedly; then he added persuasively, "Be a good girl, Betty, and just keep in the bottom of the boat."

I saw that he was rowing in his shirt sleeves,—his coat was over me,—and his hat was gone; the rain was pouring down on his bare head. His face was very pale and set,—stern looking,—and the veins in his forehead were standing out like cords as he strained every nerve at the oars.

"I'm going for one of the coves," he shouted to me presently, "where I can run her aground."

Again and again we were tossed back by the receding waves; but at last we shot into the cove, and I heard the keel grating on the rocky beach. In an instant Hilliard was overboard, and had pulled the boat up on the sand, out of reach of the highest wave. As he helped me on to the beach, I looked up in his white face, and such a sense of what he had endured for me rushed over me that I couldn't get the words out fast enough.

I threw my hands out and caught hold of his shoulders: "Oh, Hilliard Erveng, youarea brave boy!" I cried out, choking up. "You are no coward; you are brave—brave!and I have been a mean, contemptible, conceited, stuck-up girl." I think I shook him a little; I was in such earnest that I hardly knew what I was doing.

The rain had plastered Hilliard's hair flat to his head, and washed it into funny little points on his forehead, and there were raindrops pouring down his face; but his mouth was smiling,and his eyes were wide open and shining. He laid his hands over mine as they rested on his shoulders. "Thank God for to-day, Betty,thankGod!" he said, in a glad, excited way. "He has saved your life, and I am no longer a coward; I am no longer afraid—see!" As the lightning flashed over us he lifted his head and faced it, with lips that quivered a little, but also with unflinching eyes. "Doctor Emmons always said that I would be cured of my dread could I but face one thunder storm throughout," he added, still with that joyous ring in his voice. "And now I've done it! I've done it; I amfree!"

"Oh! I am soglad!soverythankful!" I began, and then broke down and burst into a violent fit of crying.

I couldn't stop crying, though Ididtry hard to control my tears; and my knees shook so that I could hardly walk. Hilliard almost carried me along until we met Jim the coachman and Mr. Erveng on the beach. Mr. Erveng had just got home, and heard that Hilliard and I were out in the storm. Then between them they got me to the house, where Mrs. Erveng and Alice and her mother were anxiously waiting for us.

How glad they were to see us! and how they all kissed and hugged me! Mrs. Erveng took me right into her arms.

Everybody began talking at once. I heardAlice say, "As soon as we missed you, and Dillon said she had seen you walking toward that part of the beach, Hilliard declared you were on the rock,—he seemed to guess it. And he was off for the boat like a flash,—he wouldn't even wait for Jim; he said every minute was precious—"

I lost the rest; a horrid rushing noise came in my ears, everything got black before me, and I fainted, for the very first time in my life.

It is now nearly a week since all this happened, and to-morrow I am going home—to the Cottage. I was so stiff and tired from the beating of the waves that Mrs. Erveng kept me in bed for several days, and telegraphed the family not to expect me until Thursday; otherwise neither Hilliard nor I have suffered from our drenching in that awful storm. Mrs. Endicott and Alice are going as far as New York with me, and there Phil will meet me and take me home.

I shall beveryglad to be with my own dear ones again,—it seems an age since I saw them; and I long to talk to Nannie, and tell her everything. Still,now, I'm not sorry that I came here. I think that I shall never forget my visit to Endicott Beach.

NORA was playing a sweet, wild Hungarian melody on the piano, the boys were on the stoop talking to Chad,—every now and then the sound of their voices came in through the open windows,—and I sat under the drawing-room chandelier reading. Presently Chad came in, and, leaning on the piano, began talking to Nora in a low tone; and without stopping her music, she talked back, in the same tone of voice.

illus330"WITHOUT STOPPING HER MUSIC, SHE TALKED BACK, IN THE SAMETONE OF VOICE."

The story I was reading was A 1, and I'd got to averythrilling place, where the boy comes face to face with an infuriated tiger, when I heard something said outside that just took all the interest out of my book. Phil was speaking sharply,—I wondered Nora and Chad didn't hear him. "What's thematterwith you?" he flared out. "I declare, you're getting as fussy as an old cat! I won't stand the way you're watching me, and you've just got to drop it.I'm not ababy, to be tied to anybody's apron-strings! I'll go and come as I please."

I didn't hear what Fee said to this, but Phil's answer to it was quite loud: "Yes, Iamgoing,—to-night, and to-morrow night, and any other night I please. Theideaof a fellow of my age not being able to go out for a walk without asking your permission!"

illus332"THE STORY I WAS READINGWAS A 1."

"When you talk like that you are downright silly!" broke in Felix. I could tell by his voice he was trying hard to control his temper. "'Tisn't the going out that anybody objects to; it's the person you're going with. You know very well, Phil, that he isn't the sort of fellow to do you any good. I sized him up the very first time we saw him, and I still hold to my opinion,—he's ab-a-dlot."

"A-c-h!you make me tired!" exclaimed Phil,—that's a favourite expression of his when he's cornered,—and leaning in through thewindow, he called, "See here, Chad; any time to-night!"

"Yes, A'm coming," Chad called back, and bidding Nora good-night, he went out; a minute after I heard their steps as Phil and he ran down the stoop and passed by the drawing-room windows.

Laying my book down quietly and very quickly, I ran out on the stoop. Fee sat there with his elbows on his knees, and his chin resting on his clasped hands, staring at nothing. Dropping down beside him, I slipped my hand in his arm and squeezed it to me. "I heard Phil," I said. "I'm awfully sorry hewouldgo."

"Yes," Fee answered, but in a way that I knew he wasn't thinking of what he was saying.

We sat quiet for a little while, then Felix turned suddenly and laid his hand on my knee. "Jack," he said earnestly, "I've made up my mind about something that's been bothering me since last night. What I'm going to do may turn out right, it may turn out wrong,—God only knows; but it seems right to me, and I'm going to try it. I dread it, though,—justdreadit. If I hadn't promised—" He broke off abruptly, and turned his head away. I wanted to say something to him, but I couldn't think of athing.

In a minute Felix began again. "Tell me honestly, Jack," he said, "do you think thatPhil cares as much for me as he used to,—I mean before that fellow Chad came?"

"Why, Fee!" I exclaimed, "of coursehe loves you just as well; Iknowhe does,—we all love youdearly!" Do you know, it just hurt me to have him think Phil could let a person like Chad come between them. Of course, as nurse says, we have our ups and downs; we get mad with one another sometimes, and all that, you know; but still we do love one another dearly, and we'd stand up for the different ones like everything, if need be. We've always been very proud of Fee,—he's so clever, you see; but since that night that I'm going to tell you about, I just think my brother Felix is the noblest, bravest, truest boy in the world! I've always loved Fee very dearly; but now,—well, now I have a feeling that I would be willing to give my life for him. Poor old Fee!

When I said that so positively about Phil's caring, I could see Fee was pleased; his face brightened up. "Well, perhaps he does," he said. "He's been very cranky lately, and sharp to me,—in fact to everybody; but I have a feeling that that's because he isn't really satisfied with the way he's acting. I tell you, Jack, Phil's a good fellow,"—Fee pounded his hand down on his knee as he spoke; "it isn't easy for him to do wrong. And he isn't up to Chad's tricks, or the set he's got him into. They'veflattered Phil first, and that has turned his head; and then they've laughed at him for not doing the things they do, and that's nettled him,—until they've got him all their way. I know what they are,—I can see through their cunning; but Phil isn't so sharp. There are people in this world, Jack, so contemptible and wicked that they hate to have anybody better than they are themselves, and Chad and his crowd belong to that class. If I'd been able to go about with Phil as I used to, they'dneverhave had the chance to get hold of him. And as it is, now that I've found out their game, I'm going to stop the whole business, and bring Phil to his senses. He's too fine a fellow for those rascals to spoil. I'll stop it—I'll stop it, no matterwhatit costs me!"

Oh, how often I've thought of those words since that dreadful night! And yet, I have a feeling that even if he had known, he would have gone—I tell you, there isn't another boy in all the world like our Felix!

Fee's voice was shaking, and he got on his feet as if he were going to start that very minute; but before I could say anything he began again: "I've got a plan,—not a very good one, I must confess, but it's the best I can think of, and it may work; that is, if Phil has as much of the old feeling for me as you think, Jack: I'm building a good deal on that,—I hope Iwon't get left. He may turn obstinate,—you know hecanbe a very donkey sometimes; and I suppose he'll get furiously mad. Well, I'll have to stand that,—if only he doesn't blaze out at me before those cads;thatwould cut meawfully. But that I'll have to risk; he's worth it. Now, Jack, I want you to help me,—to go somewhere with me, I mean. I'm sorry to have to ask this, for it's no place for a youngster like you; but I think you're one of the kind that won't be hurt by such things, Rosebud,"—putting his hand on my arm,—"and I'm so unsteady on my feet that I am afraid I really couldn't get along alone. Get your hat—and my cane."

In a minute I had both, and we went down the stoop together. At the foot of the steps Fee stopped, and taking off his hat, began pushing his hair back off his forehead. I could see he was nervous. "Suppose thisshouldn'tbe the right thing that I'm going to do; suppose it should make matters worse," he said undecidedly, almost irritably. "Now, if Nannie were here—I haven't a creature to advise me!"

"Ithink you're doing right, Fee," I began. I didn't remember until afterward that I really didn't know what his plan was; but I don't think he heard what I said, for he went on in a low tone, as if he were talking to himself: "Suppose he gets furiously angry, and pitches into me before those low fellows,—you never know whatPhil's going to say when he gets mad,—andwill notcome home with me, what'll I dothen? It's a risk. And if this plan fails, I don't know what else to do. Had I better just let things drift along as they are until we get in the country, and then speak to him? Idreada row before that crowd; they'd just set him up against me. And yet—a week more of nights to come home as he did last night, and the night before that—oughtI to let that go on? What wouldshesay to do?"

He stood with his head bent, thinking,—his hat and cane in one hand, and holding on to the stone newel-post with the other. And as we waited the gay strains of Nora's waltz came to us through the windows; since that night I just hate to hear her play that piece.

Presently Felix looked up at me with the faintest little smile. "I came pretty near asking you to write me down a coward, Jack," he said; "but I'm all right again. Now for your part of this affair: If Phil will come back with me, as I hope, you'll have to make your way home alone, without letting him know of your being there. Try and manage it. If he gets ugly, and willnotleave that crowd, why, then we—you and I—'ll have to travel back as we went. You must judge for yourself, Rosebud, whether to go, or to stay for me; I'll have enough to do, you know, to manage Phil. Apart from that, haveas little to do in the matter as possible; ask no questions, speak to no one, and see and hear no more than you can help. All right?"

"Yes," I answered quickly, "and I only wish I could do more for you, Fee."

Felix put his hand on my shoulder for a rest, as he usually did when we walked together. "You've been a real comfort to me, Jack, since Nannie went away," he said. I tell you that meantlotsfrom him, and I knew it; I just put up my hand and squeezed Fee's fingers as they rested on my coat; then we started off.

On Fee's account we walked very slowly; but after a while we came to a house with a very low stoop,—just a step or two from the ground. There were handsome glass doors to the vestibule, and the rather small hall was brilliantly lighted up. I fancied that the man who opened the door looked at me as if he thought I had no business there; but Felix marched right by him and stepped into the elevator, and of course I followed.

"Mr. Whitcombe," said Fee; and then I knew that we were in the apartment house where Chad has his "bachelor quarters."

"Turn to your left," said the elevator man, as he let us out. We did so, and just as we got opposite the door with the big silver knob and old bronze knocker that Chad had told us he brought from Europe, it opened, and some onecame out. Well, truly, he didn't look any older than fifteen,—two years older than I am, mind you,—but if he didn't have on a long-tailed evening coat, an awfully high stand-up collar, and a tall silk hat! You can't think what a queer figure he was,—like a caricature.

Before he could shut the door, Felix lifted his hat, and then put out his hand quickly. "Allow me," he said politely; and the next moment we were in Chad's hall, with his front door closed behind us.

At the other end of this hall was a room very brightly lighted; the portière was pushed almost entirely aside, and we could see some young fellows seated round a table. Nearly all had cigars or cigarettes in their mouths,—Phil, too; the room was just thick with smoke, and they were playing cards.

"Sit where they can't see you," Fee whispered to me; "and if you find Phil will go home with me, just slide out without letting him know of your being here. Oh, Jack, if I canonlysucceed!" He gave my hand a little squeeze—though it was a warm evening, his fingers were cold—and then walked up the hall and stood in the doorway of Chad's room.

"Hullo!you!Oh—aw—come in—aw—glad to see you! Take a chair," Chad said, in a tone of voice that told he was taken all aback; while Phil was so startled that he dropped hiscigarette and called out roughly, "What the mischief areyoudoing here?"

Of course they all looked at Felix; but he answered carelessly, "Oh, I thought I'd accept a long-standing invitation,"—with a little bow toward Chad,—"and drop in for a while."

"Oh, certainly, certainly—aw—glad to see you!" exclaimed Chad.

"Who's with you?" demanded Phil; but Fee didn't answer him: he just went forward and took the place that one of the fellows made between himself and Phil. And then Chad began introducing Felix to the others.

From where I sat on the hat-rack settle,—it was the most shielded place in the hall, and near the door,—I had a full view of the people sitting on one side of the table, and particularly of Felix and Phil, who were almost directly under the glare of the light. Fee's face was as white as marble, except a red spot on each cheek, and there was a delicate look about his eyes and temples, and round his mouth, that I hadn't noticed before. Somehow his fine, regular features and splendid, broad white forehead made me think of the head of the Young Augustus that the Unsworths have.

But Phil certainly didn't look like any marble statue; his face was very red and cross, and he was scowling until his eyebrows made a thick black line above his eyes. He was disagreeable,too,—rough and quarrelsome, something like that night when he came home so late, and hurt my feelings. When, in reply to an invitation from Chad, Felix said he would join the game, Phil sung out in a kind of ordering tone, "What's the sense of spoiling the fun for everybody? You know nothing about cards; why don't you look on?"

"Because I prefer playing," answered Fee, smiling; "it's the quickest and surest way of learning, I believe,"—with a glance round the company. "What are the stakes?"

He drew a handful of money from his pocket, and laid it before him on the table.

"Don't make an ass of yourself, Felix!" Phil exclaimed angrily, laying a hand right over the little pile of silver. "We're not fooling here; we're playing in dead earnest, and you will lose every cent of your money."

Some of the fellows snickered, and one called out sharply, "Look out what you're saying, Rose."

I saw the red spots on Fee's cheeks grow brighter. "Iam goingto play," he said quietly, but looking Phil steadily in the eyes; "so please don't interfere."

"Evidently you've never learned that 'consistency is a jewel'!" Phil retorted with a sneer. I suppose he was thinking of what Fee had said that evening on the stoop.

But Felix only answered good-naturedly, "Oh, yes, I have; that used to be one of our copy-book axioms," and then they all began to play.

Well, Phil's face was a study,—it grew blacker and blacker as the game went on, and Fee kept losing; and he got very disagreeable,—trying to chaff Felix, almost as if he wanted to make him mad. But Fee just turned it off as pleasantly as he could. Those fellows made it ever so much harder, though; they got off thesilliestspeeches, and then roared with laughter over them, as if they were jokes. And, in a sly kind of way, they egged Phil on to quarrel with Fee,—laughing at all his speeches, and pretending that they thought Phil was afraid of Felix. And Chad joined in, I could hear his affected laugh and drawl above all the others; I felt how that must cut Fee!

There were some decanters and glasses on a side table, and every now and then Chad urged his friends to drink, and he would get up and wait on them. Felix refused every time, and Phil did too at first, until those common fellows began to twit him about it,—as much as saying that he was afraid to take anything 'cause Fee would "go home and tell on him." What did Phil do then—the silly fellow! 'twas just what they wanted—but snatch up a glass and swallow down a lot of that vile stuff! Well, Iwas somadwith Phil! I'd have liked to go right in and punch him. Felix never said a word ('twouldn't have done the least good,—Phil can be like a mule sometimes); he just sat there with his lips pressed tight together, looking down at the cards he held in his hands.

After that Phil's face got awfully red, and how his tongue did run! Real ugly things he said, too, and perfectly regardless who he said them to. And those fellows gotveryboisterous, and began again trying to tease our boys. I wassoafraid there'd be a row; and there surely would have been, if Felix hadn't just worked as he did to prevent it. I tell you now, it was awfully hard to sit out there in that hall and hear those fellows carrying on against my brothers,—you see I was so near I couldn't help it, I justhadto hear everything,—and not be able to take their part.

Fee kept getting whiter and whiter, the spots on his cheeks redder and redder; and by and by such a tired look came in his face that I got real worked up. I felt as if Imustgo in and just pitch right into those fellows. Almost before I knew it, I'd got up and gone a step or two in the hall, when suddenly Phil dashed his cards down on the table, and got on his feet. "I'm going home!" he declared. "Are you coming?" turning to Felix.

"You sha'n't go!" "Oh,don'tgo!" "You'vegotto finish the game," several called out. But Phil just repeated doggedly, "I'm going home! Are you coming or not, Felix?"

This was just what Fee wanted,—I knew how glad and thankful he must feel. But all he said was, "Yes, I'll go with you, if our host will excuse us," rising as he spoke and nodding his head toward Chad.

Those unmannerly things burst out laughing, as if this were a great joke; and with a smothered exclamation, Phil started for the door, knocking over a chair as he went.

Well, if you had seen me scoot down that hall and out of the door! I simplyflew, and barely got round the corner in the shadow, when Phil and Felix came along. Phil looked like a thundercloud, and instead of leaning on his arm, Fee just had hold of a piece of Phil's sleeve. They marched along in dead silence, and got into the elevator.

I hung around a little, until I was sure they were out of the way, then I went down; the elevator man looked harder than ever at me,—I suppose he wondered why I hadn't gone with Fee,—but I pretended I didn't notice.

I'd never been out very late alone before, and at first it seemed queer; but I hurried, so that I soon forgot all about that. You see I wanted to get home before the boys did, and yet I had to look out that I didn't run across them.

I hadn't thought of the time at Chad's; but we must have been there a good while, for when I got to the house the drawing-room windows were closed, and so was the front door. I don't know what I'd have done if cook hadn't come to close the basement door just as I got to our stoop, and I slipped in that way. "MasterJack!" she cried out, holding up her hands in horror; "a little b'y like you out late's this! What'd your pa say to such doin's, an' Miss Marston? An' there's Miss Nora gone to bed, thinkin' it's safe an' aslape ye are."

"Oh, hush, cook! it'sallright. Don't say anything; please don't," I said softly; then I let her go upstairs ahead of me.

The drawing-room was all dark, and the light in the hall was turned down low. The house was very quiet,—everybody had gone to bed; and after thinking it over, I made up my mind I'd wait downstairs and let the boys in before they could ring,—I forgot that Phil had taken possession of papa's latch-key, and was using it. I sat on the steps listening, and what d'you think? I must have fallen asleep, for the first thing I knew there were Phil and Felix in the hall, and Phil was closing the front door. "Oh, I see,—as usual, our gentle Rosebud's to the front," exclaimed Phil, still keeping his hand on the knob of the door; "all right, then he can help you upstairs," and he turned as if to go out.

"What!" Fee cried out in a sharp, startled voice, "you arenevergoing back to that crowd!"

"That's just what Iamgoing to do," answered Phil; his voice sounded thick and gruff. "Shall I give your love?"

Felix caught him by the arm. "Don'tgo, Phil," he pleaded; "don'tgo back to-night,pleasedon't. We've had enough of them for one evening. Come, let's go upstairs. Won't you? I have a good reason for what I'm asking, and I'll explain to-morrow."

Phil came a step or two forward, shaking Fee's hand off. "Look here!" he said sharply, "this thing might's well be settled right here, and once for all. I'm a man, not a child, I'll have you to understand, and I'm not going to be controlled by you. Just remember that, and don't try any more of your little games on me, as you have to-night, for Iwill notstand 'em! The idea of your coming up there among those fellows and making such an ass of yourself—"

"The asinine part of this evening's performance belongs to you and your friends, not to me," broke in Felix, hotly,—Phil's tone wassoinsolent. "And there are a few things thatyoumight as well understand, too," he went on more calmly. "If you continue to go to Chad's, I shall go, too; if you make those fellows your boon companions, they shall be mine as well; if you continue to drink and gamble, as you'vebeen doing lately, and to-night, I will drink and gamble, too. I mean every word I am saying, Phil. It may go against the grain at first to associate with such cads as Chad and his crowd; but perhaps that'll wear away in time, and I may come to enjoy what I now abhor. As these low pleasures have fascinated you, so they may fascinate me."

"If youeverput your foot in Chad Whitcombe's house again, I'll make him turn you out," cried Phil, in a rage, shaking his finger at Felix. "Why, you donkey! less than three months of that sort of life'd use you up completely. I'll fix you, if you ever undertake to try it; I'll go straight to thepater,—I swear I will."

"No need to do that, old fellow," Fee said, insucha loving voice! "Just drop that set you've got into, and be your own upright, honourable self again, and you shall never hear another word of such talk out of me. But," he added earnestly, "Icannot, I will not stand seeing you, my brother, my chum, our mother's son"—Fee's voice shook—"going all wrong, without lifting a finger to save you. Why, Phil, I'd give my very life, if need be, to keep you from becoming a drunkard and a gambler.Don'tgo back to those fellows to-night, dear old boy; for—forhersake,don'tgo!" Felix was pleading with his whole heart in his voice, looking eagerly,entreatingly up at Phil, and holding out his hands to him.

My throat was just filling up as Fee spoke,—I could almost have cried; and I'm sure Phil was touched, too, but he tried not to let us see it. He sort of scuffled his feet on the marble tiling of the hall, and cleared his throat in the most indifferent way, looking up at the gas fixture. "Perhaps I will drop them by and by," he said carelessly, "but I can't just yet,—in fact, I don't want to just yet; I have a reason. And that reminds me—Imustgo back to-night. Now don't getsillyover me, Felix; there's no danger whatever of my becoming a drunkard or a gambler,—nice opinion of me you must have!—and I'm quite equal to taking care of myself. As I've told you several times before, I'm a man now, not a child, and I willnothave you or anybody running round after me. Just remember that!" As he spoke, he turned deliberately to go out.

Then Fee did a foolish thing; he ought to have known Phil better, but he was so awfully disappointed that I guess he forgot. In about one second—I don't know how heevergot there so quickly—he had limped to the door, and planted himself with his back against it. His face was just aswhite! and his lips were set tight together, and he held his head up in the air, looking Phil square in the eye.

A horrid nervous feeling came over me,—I justfeltthere was going to be trouble. I stood up on the steps quickly, and called out, "Oh, boys,don'tquarrel! Oh, please,pleasedon't quarrel!" But Phil was talking, and I don't believe they even heard me.

"Get away from that door,—I'm going out!" Phil commanded.

Not a word answered Fee; he just stood there, his eyes shining steadily up at Phil through his glasses.

"Do you hear me?" Phil said savagely. "Get—out—of—the—way. I don't want to hurt you, but I amdeterminedto go out. Come,—move!"

He stepped nearer Felix, with a peremptory wave of his hand, and glowered at him. But Fee didn't flinch. "No," he said quietly, but in just as positive a tone as Phil's, "I willnotmove." Then, suddenly, a sweet, quick smile flashed over his face, and he threw his hands out on Phil's shoulders as he stood before him, saying, in that winning way of his, "I'm not a bit afraid ofyourever hurting me, old Lion-heart."

I heard every word distinctly, but Phil didn't; in his rage he only caught the first part of what Fee said, and with a sharp, angry exclamation he shoved Felix violently aside, and, hastily opening the door, stepped into the vestibule.

Fee was so completely taken by surprise—poor old Fee!—that he lost his balance, swung to one side with the force of Phil's elbow, striking his back against the sharp edge of the hall chair, and fell to the floor.

I can't tell you the awful feeling that came over me when I saw Fee lying there; I gotwild! I dashed down those steps and into the vestibule before Phil had had time to even turn the handle of the outer door, and, locking my hands tight round his arm, I tried to drag him back into the hall. "Come back," I cried out; "come back—oh, come back!"

"Hullo! what's happened to you,—crazy?" demanded Phil, giving his arm a shake; but I hung on with all my weight. And then I said something about Felix; I don't remember now what it was,—I hardly knew what I was saying,—but, with a sharp cry, Phil threw me from him and rushed back into the hall.

When I got to him, Phil was kneeling by Felix, with his hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. "Fee,Fee!" he exclaimed breathlessly, "what's the matter? Are you hurt? Are you, Fee? Oh,tellme!" But Fee didn't answer; he just lay there, his face half resting on the arm he had thrown out in falling; his glasses had tumbled off, and his eyes were closed.

In an instant Phil had rolled him over on his back on the hall rug, and I slipped my armunder his head. Fee lookeddreadfully,—white as death, with big black shadows under his eyes; and such a sad, pitiful expression about his mouth that I burst out crying.

"Oh, hush, hush!" Phil cried eagerly; "he's coming to himself. Oh, thank God! Stop your crying, Jack,—you'll frighten him."

But he was mistaken; Fee wasn't coming to,—he lay there white and perfectly still. Oh, how we worked over him! We took off his necktie and collar, we poured water on his forehead, and fanned him, and rubbed his hands and feet with hands that were as cold as his own, and trembling. And Phil kept saying, "Oh, Jack, he'll soon be better,—don't you think so?don'tyou, Jack? Oh, surely, such alittlefall couldn't be serious! hecouldn'thave struck himself on that chair,—see, it's entirely out of his way," with such a piteous pleading in his eyes and voice that I hadn't the heart to contradict him.

Nothing that we did had any effect; Fee still lay unconscious, and there was a pinched look about his features, a limp heaviness about his body, that struck terror to our hearts. "Oh, isn't thisawful!" I sobbed. Then all at once I thought of that day I found Felix lying on the floor,—could this be an attack like that, only worse? His words, "What'll thenextone be!" flashed into my mind, and I burst out eagerly,"Oh, Phil, call somebody—go for the doctor—quick, quick, oh, do bequick! The doctor will know what to do—he can help him—call nurse—oh, callsomebody!"

But Phil suddenly dropped Felix's hand that he'd been rubbing, and bending down laid his ear on Fee's chest over his heart. I shall never forget the awful horror that was in his white face when he lifted it and looked at me across Fee's body. "Jack," he said in a slow, shrill whisper, that just went through my ears like a knife, "Jack, it's no use; Fee is—"

But I screamed out before he could say that dreadful word,—a loud scream that rang through the house and woke the people up.

In a confused sort of way—as if I had dreamed it—I remember that Nora came flying down the stairs in her dressing-gown and bare feet, and nurse hurrying behind her, both crying out in a frightened way,—something like, "Oh,lawkes! whathavethem boys been doin'?" and, "Oh, boys,boys! whatisthe matter?"

But Phil's answer stands out clear,—I can hear it every time I let myself think of that awful night. He had pushed me aside, and was sitting on the floor with Fee's body gathered in his arms, Fee's face lying against his shoulder. He looked up at Nora; his dry, white lips could hardly utter the words. "Fee is dead," he said; "I have killed Felix!"

FOR a little while there was a dreadful commotion down there in the hall. Hannah and cook had come, too, by this time, and everybody was crying, and rushing about, and all talking at once,—telling everybody else what to do. Poor Nonie was awfully frightened; at first she couldn't do a thing but cry, and I was just as bad,—I'd got to that pitch that I didn't care who saw my tears.

But nurse kept her head splendidly; generally she gets all worked up over the least little sickness, but this time she kept cool, and told us what to do.

"Don't talk so foolish, Master Phil!" she exclaimed sharply, when Phil said that awful thing about Fee. "Ain't you ashamed of yourself,—frightening your sister that way! He ain't no more dead 'n you are."

Well, if you'd seen the look of hope that flashed into Phil's face! "Oh, nurse!" hegasped, "do youhonestlythink so? But he isn't breathing,—I can't feel his heart beat."

"That's 'cause he's in a swoond," nurse answered briskly. "Here, lay him down flat. Now rub his feet—hard; Hannah, slap his palms,—that'll start up a cirkilation. Here, Miss Nora, fan your brother. Cook, fill them hot-water bottles; if the water in the biler ain't hot 'nough, start your fireimmejiate. Master Jack, you run for the doctor; an' if he can't come," she added, dropping her voice so that only I heard her, "get another. Don't you come back here withoutsomebody. An' be quick's you can."

That told me that she wasn't as sure about Fee as she pretended to be, and the hope that had come up in my heart died right out. My eyes got so blinded with tears that I just had to grope for my hat; but as I was opening the outer door, I heard something that brought me in again in double quick time.

It was a cry from Phil,—a shout of joy: "Heisbreathing! Oh, he'sbreathing! His eyes are opening!"

Sure enough, they were. Slowly the heavy lids raised, and Fee's near-sighted eyes looked blankly up at Phil.

"Don't you know me, old fellow?" Phil asked with a break in his voice, bending eagerly over Felix.

A sweet little smile flickered over Fee's lips. "Phil," he said faintly; and then, with what we could all see was a great effort, he raised his hand slowly and let it fall heavily on Phil's hand.

Poor Phil! that broke him down completely. Catching Fee's face between his two hands, he kissed him warmly two or three times, and then, dropping his head down on Fee's shoulder, burst into a storm of sobs.

"Oh, come, come! this'llneverdo!" cried nurse, bustling forward. "Come, Master Phil, this ain't any time for sich behaviour,"—mind you, she was wiping the corners of her own eyes! "Now we must get him up to his own room soon's possible;thenwe can make him comfort'ble. Can you carry him up? Me and Hannah can help."

"I can do it alone," Phil said quickly, beginning to gather Fee into his arms. But I tell you it was hard work getting him up, he was such a dead weight!

Fee knew Phil was making a desperate effort to lift him, and he tried, poor fellow, to help all he could. When at last Phil stood erect, with him in his arms, nurse raised Fee's hands and joined them back of Phil's neck. "Now clasp your hands tight, Master Felix," she said, "and that'll take some of your weight off your brother."

Fee's hands were actually resting one on the other, and I saw his fingers move feebly, trying to take hold of one another. Then he said in a slow, frightened whisper, "I—can't—make—them—hold!" and his arms slipped down, one of them swinging helplessly by his side, until nurse laid it in his lap.

"Never mind, don't worry about that, Fee; I can get you up," Phil said cheerfully. "Why, don't you remember I took you almost up to your room the other night?"

Nora and I looked at each other. I know we were both thinking of the same thing,—that happy evening when we heard of aunt Lindsay's plan for Fee, and when Phil had picked Felix up and run so gaily up the stairs with him, singing. Was it possible that was only three or four evenings ago! It seemedyears.

"Run for the doctor, Master Jack—don'tloiter," nurse said, as she fell in with the procession that was moving so slowly up the stairs; Phil was going one step at a time, and sometimes sliding himself along against the banister to rest the weight he was carrying.

I rushed out and up to Dr. Archard's as fast as I could go. The streets through which I went were very lonely,—I scarcely met a creature,—but I didn't mind; in fact, the stillness, and the stars shining so clear and bright in the quiet sky, seemed to do me good. I knew Whowas up there above those shining stars; I thought of the poor lame man that He had healed long ago, and as I raced along, I justprayedthat He would help our Fee.

Dr. Archard was away, out of town, the sleepy boy who answered the bell told me; but Dr. Gordon, his assistant, was in,—would he do?

I didn't know him at all,—he'd come since papa's illness; but of course I said yes, and in a few minutes the doctor was ready and we started.

He had a nice face,—he was years younger than Dr. Archard,—and as we hurried toward home and began talking of Felix, I suddenly made up my mind that I would tell him about the attack Fee had had when papa was so ill. That promise of mine not to speak of it had always worried me, and now, all at once, a feeling came over me that I justoughtto tell Dr. Gordon everything about it,—and I did.

He asked a lot of questions, and when I finished he said gravely, "You have done very right in telling me of this; the knowledge of this former attack and his symptoms will help me in treating your brother's case."

"Is it the same trouble?" I asked eagerly.

"Certain symptoms which you have described point that way," he answered; "but of course I can say nothing until I have seen and examined him."

"Could such an accident"—I'd told him that Fee had struck his back against a chair and then fallen—"do anybody—harm?" My heart was thumping as I put the question.

"Under some circumstances, serious harm," the doctor said. And just then—before I could say anything more—we came to our stoop, and there was Hannah holding the door open for us to go in.

The doctor turned every one out of Fee's room but Phil and nurse; and he was in there an awful long time. And while Nonie and I sat on the upper stairs waiting for news, what did I do but fallasleep! and I didn't wake up until the next morning, when I found myself in my own bed. It seems that Phil had undressed and put me to bed, though I didn't remember a thing about it. I felt dreadfully ashamed to have gone to sleep without hearing how Fee was, but you see I was so dead tired, that I suppose I reallycouldn'tkeep awake.

Did you ever wake up in the morning with a strange sort of feeling as if there was a weight on your heart, and then remember that something dreadful had happened the night before? Well, then you know just how I felt the morning after Fee got hurt. For a moment or two I tried to make myself believe it was all a bad dream; but there sat Phil on the edge of our bed, andthe sight of his wretched white face brought back the whole thing only too plainly.

"Oh! how is Fee?" I exclaimed, sitting up in bed. "What does the doctor say about him?"

Phil's elbow was resting on his knee, his chin in his palm. "The doctor says," he answered, with, oh! such a look of misery in his tired eyes, "that Felix is not in danger of death, but it looks now as if hemight not be able to walk again!"

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