[114][CHAPTER VIII]
THE FIRE
For about half an hour the child slept peacefully. Once or twice Emma stole softly in to find her with hand under a cheek, now rather pale, and with red lips half-smiling as if in a pleasant dream. "Bless the child, it's nothin' but a sick-headache," whispered Emma. "She'll be all the better for the sleep." At the end of the half hour Edna stirred, sighed, opened her eyes and then sat up. The dizzy feeling was nearly gone.
Emma came to the door. "Well," she said, "and how are you feeling?"
"A good deal better," said Edna cheerfully. "I think I'll get up and go down to the living-room, Emma."
"Do you feel equal to it?" asked Emma.
"Oh, yes I think I do. Besides the sun is coming in here now, and I've been here all day, so I'd like a change."
"Then I'll tell you there's someone down there waiting for you. He wouldn't have you disturbed, but said I was to bring him word when you waked up. He's been there about a quarter of an hour, I should say, but he said he would amuse himself [115]with the papers and magazines, and you were not to hurry on his account."
This didn't sound as if it could be Louis, as Edna at first supposed it might be. He had not been asked to go on the sailing party, and could easily have come over. "It isn't my cousin Louis Morrison, is it?" she asked.
"No, it's the owld gintleman with the eyebrows. I don't just remember the name."
"Why, it must be Uncle Justus," cried Edna getting up with alacrity. "He was to have gone sailing with the others. I wonder why he didn't go. Is it the gentleman who was here to lunch yesterday, Emma?"