“Perhaps for a bit to-morrow. But just stay quiet to-day and get strong. You’ve had fever, you know.”
And she piled their beds with toys and books, and went away to attend to other things, leaving a big bell within reach so that either of them could ring if anything was wanted.
But they didn’t feel like playing or like reading. It seemed as though the bedclothes smothered all the fun out of that sort of thing.
“Why are people sick?” asked Ruth, fretfully.
“Probably to make them appreciate being well. Just think how we go on almost all the time bursting with health, and never stop to like it.”
“I do like it,” Ruth returned indignantly.
“But just the way you like to breathe, without thinking about it. Now we think about it, though. Golly, I’d like a big piece of pie this minute.”
They both sighed.
“Well, well, well!” exclaimed that raindrop-falling voice they loved so much to hear. “What’s all this woe?”
“Oh, Fairy, Fairy Honeysqueak! We’ve been sick, but we’re better. How perfectly splendid of you to come. We were just wishing we could do something besides lie here and think about good things to eat we can’t have. Can you take us on an adventure? Or can’t we go till we are well again?”