"How do you think your brother is today?" he questioned kindly.
"He's awful sick," replied Flea.
"I fear, too, that he will be very ill for a long time. He was filled with the fever when he came here. Now, my sister and I have been talking it over—"
Flea rose half-hesitantly.
"And ye wants me to take him some'ers else?" she questioned.
Horace motioned again for her to be seated.
"Sit down, child," said he; "you're quite wrong in your hasty guess. No, of course, you're not to go away. But my sister and I desire that while you are here you should study, and that you should come in contact with other girls of your own age. We want you to go to school."
"Study—study what?"
"Why, learn to read and write, and—"
"Ye mean I have to leave Flukey, and—and you?"