"Tell me all about it, Star—all?" said Edith.
"Since you first took ill?" asked Star.
"Everything—I want to know," said Edith.
"My, Edith! he did so many things, that it might make you blush, did I tell you," said Star, laughing.
"Why! what did he do?" asked Edith, with an inkling that she had not been dreaming all the time.
"Do? Why, Edith! the first thing he did, was to put his arm around you in the cab coming home that night," began Star.
"Why, my faithful Star! Did you permit him to do that?" asked Edith, appearing to be repellent in her tone.
"He couldn't help it, dear; you was as limp as a rag, and he had to hold you up. When we got home, he picked you up, and carried you into this very room, and laid you on your bed."
"My! oh, my, Star! he didn't do that, did he?" exclaimed Edith. "How dreadful!"
"It couldn't be helped," replied the sympathetic Star, as her only explanation.