"Yes, I reckon they are a pretty lively bunch sometimes, for Susie is as wild as Mercedes is quiet; and Inez should have been her twin instead of Irene's. Janie is a regular little mischief, too, but such a darling! You are sure to love her, though Rosslyn is my favorite. Put on your hat and let's go down before dinner. Daddy won't be home until evening, and there is nothing to keep us here."
Seizing her sunbonnet from its peg by the door, Tabitha started up the path toward town with Gloriana hobbling along at her side, when they saw Mercedes, with roguish Janie and chubby Rosslyn in tow, coming down the slope toward them. Her round, serious eyes looked heavy and worried, her childish face pale and frightened; but at sight of the two approaching figures, a smile of relief suddenly curved the drooping lips, and she exclaimed eagerly, "Oh, girls, I was just going for you! Are you on the way to our house? Oh, please say yes! Something dreadful has happened, I'm sure, for mamma has sent us all out-doors, and is in the kitchen crying fit to kill. She won't say what's the matter, and I'm horribly scared. I never saw her cry before."
Tabitha's face paled instantly. "I wonder—" she began, then stopped. How could she put her thought into words when Mercedes was already so dreadfully frightened? "Has the doctor been to see your father this morning?" she asked.
"Yes. He stayed ever so long and talked to mamma in the kitchen. I am afraid papa is worse, for 'twas right after the doctor was gone that she began to cry so hard."
Tabitha turned to Gloriana. "I'll run on ahead," she said, "if you don't mind. You can follow more slowly with Mercedes. I—perhaps it would be better if I saw Mrs. McKittrick alone first."
"All right," agreed Glory, who, like Tabitha, was wondering if the message the doctor had delivered in the Eagles' Nest that morning had left the little mother without a ray of hope; and so she fell in step beside the anxious Mercedes, and began to chat in spritely, diverting tones while Tabitha sped swiftly up the narrow, winding path to the lonely-looking, little, brown house perched on the steep mountainside.
Arriving at the door breathless and panting, she hesitated a moment before knocking, suddenly aware that she had not the slightest idea of what she intended to say or do. A glimpse through the screen of a huddled figure bowed despairingly over the kitchen table drove every other thought from her mind, however, and flinging open the door, she ran lightly across the room and impulsively laid her hand upon the quivering shoulders.
"Mercedes, must I tell you again—" began the muffled voice of the distracted woman, as she impatiently shook off the hand resting on her arm.
"It isn't Mercedes," Tabitha interrupted. "It is I—Tabitha. I don't know what is the matter, but if you will tell me, perhaps I can be of some use, even if I am only a girl."
Mrs. McKittrick lifted a red, swollen face from her arms outstretched on the table, glanced in surprise at the black-eyed girl bending so sympathetically above her, and once more burst into a flood of tears, sobbing wildly, "It ain't any use, Tabitha! You couldn't help if you was a woman grown. No one can help. The doctor says—" The choking words died on her lips. She could not bear to repeat the doctor's verdict.