Nobody could answer him, and he had to wait, like all the rest.
But God did not mean that Prudy should die. At last, after many days, the fever died out like a fire when it has burned the wood all down to cinders. Then there was a pale little girl left, who looked as if a breath would blow her away like white ashes. I think a little baby, that tips over if you touch it, could not be weaker than Prudy was when she began to get well.
Ah, but it was so joyful to see her own sweet smile once more, though never so faint! And every low word she spoke now dropped from her lips like a note of music.
Her father and mother, and the whole family, were full of joy, and Grace and Susy went to their cosy seat in the trees to talk over the pretty things they were going to make for Prudy when she should be well enough to enjoy them.
CHAPTER VII
PRUDY'S PRESENT
"Well, dear," said grandma, coming up stairs one morning, all out of breath, "what did you call me for? What do you want, little one?"
"I don't know," said Prudy, "but I guess I shall want somethin' by and by."