We ten

by Barbara Yechton

He listened to all I could tell about papa; then, when I had finished, he threw his arms wide apart on the floor with a groan, and rolled his head impatiently from side to side. I just longed to do something for him,—dear old Fee!

"Don't you want to get up?" I asked again, in as coaxing a way as I could. "I could help you, you know, Fee; the floor is so hard for your back."

Then he told me. "Jack," he said, in a tired, hopeless voice that made a lump fly into my throat, "I'm in a pretty bad fix, I'm afraid; my poor old back and my legs have given out. I got a very queer feeling that time I sat down so suddenly on the steps, and after you'd gone 'twas all I could do to brace up and drag myself to this floor to call nurse. Then I crawled in here, and barely got inside the door when I collapsed. My legs gave way entirely, and down I tumbled just where you see me now." He threw his arms out again, and twisted one of his hands in the fringe of the rug on which he was lying; then presently he went on: "Do you know why I'm still lying here? do you know why, Jack? because"—his voice shook so he had to stop for a minute—"because, from my waist down, I can't move my body at all. Unless somebody helps me, I'll have to lie here all night; I'm perfectly helpless!"

I'd been swallowing and swallowing while Fee was talking, but now I couldn't stand it any longer; I felt awfully unhappy, and I just had to let the tears come. "It's that fall that's done it," I said, trying to wipe away the tears that came rushing down,—it's so girlie to cry!—"the day Alan upset you in the schoolroom! Oh, Fee, do let me call somebody to help you! Phil's downstairs, you know; oh, and the doctor,—please, please let me ask him to come up! Oh, mayn't I?"

Felix put out his hand and patted my knee in a way that reminded me of Nannie; he doesn't usually do those things. "Don't cry, Jackie-boy," he said very gently, "and don't blame Alan,—I don't believe he touched me that day; I believe now that that was an attack similar to this, only not so severe. What'll the next one be!" His voice began shaking again, but he went right on: "Now I want you to help me keep this thing quiet,—I was hoping you'd be the one to find me,—so that Nannie and the others won't have it to add to their anxiety while the pater is ill. I'm afraid he's in a bad way; I don't like the doctor's sounding his heart,—that looks as if he suspected trouble there. He has been working like a slave ever since—oh, what beasts we were to get up that Fetich joke! Poor old pater!" Felix folded his arms across his eyes and lay perfectly quiet; I think I saw a tear run down the side of his face to his ear, but I won't be sure. That just brought that horrid lump right back into my throat, but I was determined I wouldn't break down again; so I got up, and taking a pillow from the bed, brought it over to slip under Fee's head,—the floor was so hard you know.

This roused him. "You're not very big, Rosebud, but perhaps you can help me to get to bed," he said, trying to speak as if nothing had happened. "I may feel better after I'm there; who knows but this attack may wear off in a day or two, as the other did."

He spoke so cheerfully that I began to feel better, too, and I flew around and did just as he told me. First I pulled his bed right close up to where Fee lay,—it's very light,—then I made a rope of his worsted afghan, and passing it round the farthest bedpost, gave the ends to him; then, as he pulled himself up, I pushed him with all my might, and by and by he got on the bed. It was awfully hard to do, though, for the bed was on casters, and would slip away from us; but after a good while we succeeded.

"There, I feel a little better already!" he said, after I'd got him undressed. "That floor was hard, and I was there some time; yes, I do feel a little better." He took hold of the railing at the head of the bed and pulled himself a little higher on the pillows.

"Perhaps you'll be all right again in a few days, same as the last time," I suggested.

Fee's face brightened up. "That's so,—perhaps I shall," he said. "Why, Jack, you're almost as good a comforter as Nannie!" Then he took my hand as if he were going to shake hands, and holding it tight, went on with, "Now, Jack, I want you to promise me that you'll not speak about this attack of mine to anybody. As you say, I'll possibly—probably—be all over it in a few days, and there's too much sickness and trouble in the house already, without my adding to it. Promise me, Jack!" He gave my hand a little shake as he spoke.