Roger climbed the creaking stairs and made his way through the dark, narrow hall to the open door from whence a faint light came. "Come in," called Barbara, as he paused.
Ambrose North sat by her bedside holding her hand, but she laughingly offered the other to Roger. "Bad boy," she said; "why haven't you come before? I've lain here in the window and watched you go back and forth for days."
"I didn't dare," returned Roger. "I was afraid I might do you harm by coming and so I stayed away."
"Everybody has been so kind," Barbara went on. "People I never saw nor heard of have come to inquire and to give me things. You're absolutely the last one to come."
Last but Not Least
"Last—and least?"
"Not quite," she said, with a smile. "But I haven't been lonely. Father has been right beside me all the time except when I've been asleep, haven't you, Daddy?"
"I've wanted to be," smiled the old man, "but sometimes they made me go away."
"Tell me about the Judge's liver," suggested Barbara, "and Fido. I've been thinking a good deal about Fido. Did his legal document hurt him?"
Fido