The child shook her head resignedly. “Listen to the cellar-man!” she whispered. He was whistling as hard as he could down in her windpipe, and she listened to him with a serious expression. Then her hand stole up and she stroked her father’s face as though to comfort him.
Brun, however, put her hand down again immediately and covered her up close. “We very nearly lost that doll!” he said seriously. He had promised her a large doll if she would keep covered up.
“Shall I still get it?” she asked in gasps, gazing at him in dismay.
“Yes, of course you’ll get it, and if you make haste and get well, you shall have a carriage too with india rubber tires.”
Here Ellen came in. “Mr. Brun,” she said, “I’ve made your room all ready for you.” She laid a quieting hand upon the child’s anxious face.
The librarian rose unwillingly. “That’s to say Mr. Brun is to go to bed,” he said half in displeasure. “Well, well, goodnight then! I rely upon your waking me if things become worse.”
“How good he is!” said Ellen softly. “He’s been sitting here all the time to see that she kept covered up. He’s made us afraid to move because she’s to be kept quiet; but he can’t help chattering to her himself whenever she opens her eyes.”
Ellen had moved Lasse Frederik’s bed down into their bedroom and put up her own here so as to watch over the child. “Now you should go to bed,” she said softly to Pelle. “You must be tired to death after your journey, and you can’t have slept last night in the train either.”
He looked tired, but she could not persuade him; he meant to stay up there. “I can’t sleep anyhow as things are,” he whispered, “and to- morrow’s Sunday.”
“Then lie down on my bed! It’ll rest you a little.”