“If he should die!”
Chapter Twenty Three.
Uncle Luke Grows Harder.
“I would not stop over these, my dears,” said Vine, as they sat at breakfast, which was hardly tasted, “but if I neglect them they will die.”
He had a glass globe on the table, and from time to time he went on feeding with scraps of mussel the beautiful specimens of actinia; attached to a fragment of rock.
“We’ll all go on directly and see if we can be of any use. I’m glad Knatchbull called as he went by.”
“But what news!” said Louise sadly. “It seems so terrible. Only yesterday evening so well, and now—”
She finished her remark with a sob.