Harry laughed.
“Yes, Becky, ’tis a new game. We’ll call it ‘Excelsior,’ a game which requires work, and not play.”
“Don’t puzzle the child, Harry,” said Mrs. Thompson.
“Child!” echoed Harry. “Sweet sixteen; and yet she’s but a child.”
“You saved my life, Harry,” said Becky, with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know as I ought to thank you for doing it, for Aunt Rebecca says it’s been a wasted life. But I do thank you all the same.”
“Perhaps I’ve brought you into a new life, Becky. I hope I have—the life of usefulness we all should live.”
“Look out, Becky! she’s drifting!” shouted Teddy, in his sleep. “She’s drifting! she drifting!”
He moved uneasily in his sleep, started, rolled off his chair, and drifted on to the floor, with a crash that shook the house.
“Teddy Sleeper, what ails you? Wake up!” cried Becky, running to him, and shaking him. “Don’t you see we’ve got company?”