"Is anything the matter?" asked Bess, who was always anxious about her charge.
"No, only he doesn't feel very well," answered Rob, as he followed her out of the room. When they were alone in the hall, he went on hurriedly, "He's poisoned a little, I think, but he doesn't feel like going to-day, and he wants us all to go and leave him. You make him think we will, and I'll start with you, and then, after you are gone, I'll come back to the house again. I truly don't care about it."
Bess read her little cousin's generous motive, and as they went up the stairs, she insisted that he should join the frolic, and let her stay; but Rob held firm, and she had to yield, much against her will, for she knew how the boy had anticipated the day's fun.
A striking picture met Bessie's gaze, as she went into the boys' room. Fred had attempted to get up, as usual, but after dressing, he felt so ill and miserable, that he had thrown himself down again. His face had swollen until his eyes were half closed, and its ruddy hue was heightened by its contrast with his white flannel blouse and the two bright green leaves that Rob had again plastered on his face, just before he went down-stairs. The remedy, applied in that way, was so original that Rob was at once dubbed "the doctor," a name that clung to him, to his disgust, till the end of the visit.
It was hard to see the gay party starting off in their three boats; Mr. Muir rowing Bess in the first, Jack, Alice, and the children in a second, and the third in charge of a servant, with a tent and the lunch. Several friends from the hotel were to meet them, and among them was one little girl, with whom Rob had established quite a friendship. Yes, it would be great fun, but there was Fred, blind, ill, and alone, and the thought of his friend helped him to smile bravely and answer decidedly all their entreaties to go.
"I think Fred doesn't need you," Bess had said. "I am glad to have you willing to stay, Robin, but I am sure he really won't mind being alone."
"I'd rather stay," said Rob, and nothing could change his purpose.
But as the boats vanished around a point of land, Rob's resolution failed, and for a moment his face twitched. Then he started off, and tramped twice around the shore of the little island, as if running a race with himself. That done, he went into Bessie's room, took a book that she was reading aloud to Fred, and presented himself before the boy, who, now stripped of his foliage, had settled himself for a long, dull day.
"Got left," he said briefly, as he seated himself.
And Fred understood the sacrifice.