"Beef-tea," said Mrs. Roscoe, drawing down her upper lip. But she took a little to please him.
"Just a little more."
She took more.
"A little teenty more."
"You scamp! You think it's great fun to give directions, don't you?"
Maso, who had put the emptied cup back on the table, gave a leap of glee because she had taken so much.
"Don't walk on your hands," said his mother, in alarm, "It makes me too nervous."
It was the 12th of April, and she had been ill two weeks. An attack of bronchitis had prostrated her suddenly, and the bronchitis had been followed by an intermittent fever, which left her weak.
"I say, mother, let's go," said Maso. "It's so nice at the Bagni—all trees and everything. Miss Anderson'll come and pack."
Miss Anderson was one of Dr. Prior's nurses. She had taken charge of Mrs. Roscoe during the worst days of her illness.