“Saved daddy!” she gasped—“Carried him out on—Oh! Aunt Felicia!—and I have been so mean! To think he got up out of bed and—and—” Everything swam before her eyes.
Miss Felicia sprang forward and caught her in her arms.
“Come!—none of this, Child. Pull yourself together right away. Get her some water, nurse,—she has stood all she can. There now, dearie—” Ruth's head was on her breast now. “There—there—Such a poor darling, and so many things coming all at once. There, darling, put your head on my shoulder and cry it all out.”
The girl sobbed on, the wrinkled hand patting her cheek.
“Oh, but you don't know, aunty—” she crooned.
“Yes, but I do—you blessed child. I know it all.”
“And won't somebody go and help him? He is all alone, he told me so.”
“Uncle Peter is with him, dearie.'”
“Yes,—but some one who can—” she straightened up—“I will go, aunty—I will go now.”
“You will do nothing of the kind, you little goose; you will stay just where you are.”