So Mrs. Green came to our room and had Dee in bed after a good hot bath and a dose of aromatic spirits of ammonia. She brought her own hot-water bag and put it to her feet, and then, tucking her in, gave her a motherly kiss. As she was certainly not very much older than we were, I might have said big-sisterly, but there is a difference, and that kiss was motherly. I know it was because I got one, too, and it seemed to me to be the female gender of the kind father gives to me, only on rare occasions, however, as we are not a very kissy family.

"Now, dear, you must go to sleep and not dream even pleasant dreams. Don't dream at all."

And our kind friend prepared to leave us.

"Well, I feel fine now—but—but—I can't go to sleep until I tell you all about Louis and what happened today."

"But, my dear, you need not tell me. I think you must be quiet now. You see, I told your father I would be the doctor, and I must not let you do things to excite you. Talking about a trying experience would be the worst thing in the world for you."

"But I have been thinking it all over and I feel that you and Professor Green would be the ones of all others to take an interest in Louis and advise what to do about him."

"All right—in the morning!"

"No! Tonight. I want you to talk it over with your husband tonight."

"If you feel that way about it, just shut your eyes and go to sleep; Dum and I will do the telling without your assistance," I said; and Dee, who was in the last stages of exhaustion, gave in and was asleep almost before we got the light off.

Dum and I followed Mrs. Green to her room, where we told her the whole frightful business. She was all interest and solicitude.