Then Nan understood, and so did Mrs. Pry.
“The little dear,” sighed the old lady. “You won’t catch the lumbago, Flossie. Little girls don’t catch the lumbago.”
“No, but maybe the lumbago will catch me!” and Flossie still sobbed. “Shut the door, Nan, and keep the lumbago out!”
Then Nan laughed and said:
“Why, I do believe she thinks the lumbago is a sort of animal! Do you, Flossie?”
“Ye-ye-yes,” was the halting answer. “Isn’t the lumbago like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood?”
“Bless your heart, no!” chuckled Mrs. Pry, in as jolly a manner as she could, though it hurt her to laugh. “The lumbago is something like rheumatism. It catches one in the back and keeps them in bed. I’ve had it before. I’ll be better in a few days. Bless you! the lumbago isn’t a wolf, though it pains a lot. Don’t be afraid. Though I don’t know what you are going to do, Nan. I’m not able to get out of bed, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll manage all right,” Nan said, though her heart was sinking with all the troubles that seemed flocking around. “I’ll make you some coffee, as I do when mother has a headache.”
“Do you think you can, my dear?” asked Aunt Sallie. “I’m so sorry I’m laid up with this lumbago!”
“I can manage,” replied Nan bravely, while she hurried with her dressing. “We children will just have to keep house by ourselves in real earnest,” she said to herself.