Hastily manufactured bouquets of newspaper and paper-muslin were
showered upon the stage, and when all was over nurse and cook surprised
us by refreshments of cookies and lemonade, served on the schoolroom
table. How we enjoyed it! Not a cake was left, nor a drop of lemonade.
Nora was shocked, and I was so glad Miss Marston had not accepted our
invitation to be present!
When it was all over, and we were putting away the things, I told
Felix what nurse had said, and asked him if he had noticed that
papa wasn't well.
Fee looked at me with reflective eyes for a moment or two. "Yes," he
said slowly, "come to think of it, the _pater_ _has_ looked rather seedy
lately. And another thing," he added, "he hasn't let me make a single
reference for him this whole week; and yesterday, when I went in
somewhat abruptly, he was sitting at his desk with pages of the Fetich
before him, but not writing or reading, just resting his head on his
hand. I don't think I've ever seen him do that before."
Again that horrid apprehension came over me.
"Oh, Fee," I said nervously, "do you suppose he is ill,--that anything
is going to happen to him? _Do_ tell me frankly what you think!"
Felix bent over the stage property he was doing up, as he answered:
"I've thought for some time past that he misses--mother--more than
ever.
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