Then Elisabeth appeared; and even Elisabeth was for once severe. She brought the little girl her tea and bread-and-butter, and gave her also an admonition on her conduct, which really was not then needed, for Hecla was already as miserable as she knew how to be. Elisabeth's lecture proved just the one drop too much, and set her off crying helplessly. It was impossible to eat bread-and-butter when tears came streaming down and mixed with the food and fell into her cup, and sobs nearly choked her.
Mrs. Prue had called Elisabeth away, and Hecla was again alone. She left the tray, curled herself once more into the window-corner, and cried herself into a sound sleep.
There Chris found her. He had come in to see what was happening to his chum, half concerned for her sake, and more than half disposed to give her a piece of his mind respecting her behaviour. But when he saw the child's reddened and blistered face, and when he heard the pitiful little sobs which came from time to time even in her sleep, he changed his mind, and went straight back to the Vicarage. And ten minutes later the Vicar himself walked in.
Something awoke Hecla; she did not know what. Half unconscious still, she fancied it was her own mother kissing her. And then she opened her eyes and found herself on the Vicar's knees, with her head on his shoulder, and his kind arm supporting her.
It did not occur to her to wonder how she came there. She only felt how good it was to be so held, and not to be told that everything was her fault, which already she knew only too well. She gave one surprised look up into those kind eyes, and then she clung closer to him, trying to pull his arm more tightly round her. It was, oh, such a comfort to be no longer all alone and desolate.
The Vicar said nothing for some time. Busy man that he was, he might have had the whole day at his disposal, so long he remained thus, and so quietly he held the child. But presently, with a little added pressure, he said,—
"Tell me all about it, Hecla."
Hecla's dread broke out in words: "Will Ivy die? Must Ivy die?"
"I hope not, indeed."
"And Auntie Millicent?"