Betty eyed papa; I think she wasn't sure whether he was in sarcasm or earnest. "Oh," she said, "we did think it would be nice to have enough money to send Fee to college, but we don't want it any more,—at least, not if it's to come by your being ill—or—or—oh, papa, dear, we're all so very glad and thankful that you are going to get well." She took his hand up carefully and kissed it.
"I think that now I am glad, too, Betty," said papa; "much more so than I ever expected to be."
"And you won't work so hard again, will you?" asked Betty, anxiously. "You see, papa, I'm to get you to promise that; that's what I've come for. We talked the matter over last evening, and Phil would have come to speak to you about it, but he said you looked so wretchedly—and so you do—that just to look at you made him break down, and he was afraid he'd get rattled and make an a—a mess of it. Then Felix, he couldn't come, because, well, because—I guess he felt badly, too, about your being ill. So I thought I'd better come down and have a talk with you, though I must say I was afraid I might do something awkward,—I'm so stupid in a sick-room; but so far all's right, isn't it? The boys don't know I've come,—I thought I'd surprise them; and so I will, with the good news: you'll promise, won't you, papa?"
"Yes," papa said, "I promise."
Then Betty flew at him and kissed him, and then papa told her she'd better go. It was only just as she got to the door that she spied me. "Hullo! you here?" she exclaimed in astonishment,—adding, in a lower tone, "What're you laughing at?" Then, as I didn't answer, she walked out.
"Jack," called papa, "are there anymore of them to come? Do you suppose they are crazy?" Then he added to himself, "I wonder if any one else in the world has such children as I have?" We looked at each other for a minute or two (papa's eyes were bright, and his mouth was kind of smiley, and I was, I know, on a broad grin), and then we both laughed,—papa quietly, as he always does; but I cackled right out, I couldn't help it.
At this moment in came Miss Appleton with papa's nourishment, and right behind her Nannie.
"Oh, how bright you look!" Nannie exclaimed with delight, as she came up to him; "that last medicine has certainly done you good."
"Yes, I think it has," papa said, with a quizzical glance at me. "It was a new and unexpected kind; Nannie, my dear,—I have had a visitation."