"Yes; but I am going to tell her again this morning."
"Ask her now," suggested Ann eagerly, and she rose.
Horace found Fledra with Floyd, and she lifted her eyes confidingly to his with a smile. For a long time he had been so tender, so loving, that the specter bred and fostered by Everett Brimbecomb's kisses had nearly vanished.
"Floyd is so much better this morning!" she said. Her words were well chosen, and she pronounced her brother's new name carefully.
Floyd held out his hand and raised himself slowly up.
"Look, Brother Horace!" he cried eagerly. "Look—just this morning I've been able to stand up! Sister Ann says in a few days I can walk."
Horace held the thin, white fingers in his for an instant.
"So you will, boy. It won't be long before you can get out."
The words startled Fledra. Not until the trouble of Lon's coming had she wished that Floyd might linger in the sickroom. The man outside, watching every movement in the house, frightened her. She knew that when her brother was well enough he and she would be called away for the court's decision as to their future.
"Floyd, will you spare your sister just a few moments? I want to talk with her."