For Fred's own good, it seemed to Bessie that, first of all, his shyness must be overcome; for, in spite of all her efforts to encourage him, he still showed his aversion to going out or meeting people, and always fled to his room when any one came to call. Accordingly, one evening Bess asked the boys, Rob and his four friends, to come in for an hour, thinking that Fred would enjoy it when once they were there. As the boys came in, with all their laughter and fun, she turned to speak to Fred, but no Fred was there.
"I heard him go up-stairs a few moments ago," said her mother. "I will go up and call him." She returned presently, looking rather anxious.
"He says he doesn't feel well, and has gone to bed. He doesn't want anything," she said to Bess.
"Oh, dear!" said Bess, almost impatiently. "What will the boys think, when I invited them to see him?"
But the boys were ready to forgive everything, and the evening's games were pronounced a great success. As they went away, Rob lingered behind for a moment, to ask Bess if she thought Fred really ill.
"Oh, no; nothing serious, if it is anything at all. He may have some little headache, but I suspect it was just because he dreaded meeting you boys."
An hour later, as Bess went to her room, she stopped to listen at Fred's door. All was quiet, and she concluded that the boy was asleep. But just as she was falling into her first doze, she thought she heard a noise from the next room. Raising herself on her elbow, she listened intently, and soon caught the sound of a smothered sob. She quickly put on a wrapper and slippers, and went into Fred's room.
"What is it, my boy? Are you ill?" she asked anxiously.
"Oh, Miss Bess"—and Fred's voice broke.
"What is it, dear?" asked Bess again.