That horrid, teasing cough of Dick's got worse and worse, and by evening he was lying patiently in his crib, with a steaming kettle singing into the little tent of blankets that enveloped it, and a very large and very hot linseed poultice on his chest. Susie, sitting down below, could hear the hasty footsteps and the hoarse, croaking sound that always filled her with panic. Their tea was brought to them by the overworked maid, and she and Tom ate it in a depressed silence, and then sat again on the window-sill looking silently and miserably out to sea. By-and-by nurse came in hurriedly, with the news that baby was crying and had to be attended to, and that she and Tom must manage to put themselves to bed.
"I haven't time to brush your hair," nurse said regretfully; and Susie's face lightened.
"Nurse, is Dick better?" she asked breathlessly.
"He's about as bad as I've ever seen him," nurse said shortly, and turned to leave the room; but Susie clung desperately to her skirt.
"Don't go, nurse. Let me do something—let me hold baby."
"No, indeed, Miss Susie," said nurse; "you've done mischief enough already. Go to bed quietly, and try to get up right foot foremost to-morrow."
Susie went back to the window-sill, and huddled up close to Tom. With blank eyes she looked at the stars and the moon bursting from behind hurrying clouds. Even when she put her fingers into her ears that rasping cough pursued her. Tom's heavy head fell against her, and she knew he ought to be in bed; but it wanted really desperate courage to shake him into consciousness and get him up somehow to his room.
And upstairs, next to Tom's little bed, was an empty space, from which a crib had been hastily wheeled into the next room. On the floor beside it lay a vest and knickerbockers, still heavy with sea water, and a red tin pail and spade. It made Susie sick to look at them. But she got Tom at last into his bed, and covered him up. He tried to say his prayers, but he was too sleepy; and Susie hushed him at last, and crept away to her own little room in the dark.
Amy was so soundly asleep that she did not even turn; but Susie could not rest. All through the miserable hours she sat straight up in bed, looking before her with staring eyes, and listening to the uneasy movements next door.
It was almost morning when Amy woke at last and turned her startled gaze on Susie's face, but what she read there drove her out of her own bed and on to Susie's. Then she stretched out two comforting little arms and held her close.