CHAPTER NINETEEN
After Everett's departure, Ann tripped into Floyd's room in a happier state of mind than had been hers for several days. It had been her habit to kneel beside the boy at night and send up a petition for his recovery. Now she would thank God for his goodness to her,—Everett had come to be more like himself, and Floyd's welcoming smile sent a thrill of joy through her. As Ann entered, Fledra looked up from her book. Her pale, beseeching face drew Miss Shellington to her.
"Fledra dear, you study too late and too hard. You don't look at all well."
"I keep tellin' her that same thing, Sister Ann," said Floyd; "but she keeps mutterin' over them words till I know 'em myself."
Miss Shellington turned Fledra's face up to hers, smoothing down the dark curls.
"Go to bed, child; you're absolutely tired out. Kiss me goodnight, Dear."
Fledra loitered in the hall until she heard Miss Shellington leave Floyd; then she stole forward.
"Will you come to my room a little while, Sister Ann?"