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?©, Lyda Farrington

"We Ten Or, The Story of the Roses"

I should think he'd get mad, but he just ignores her. In fact, the
only one he shows any attention to is Nora; he's all the time bringing
her flowers, and talking to her in his affected way, and lately he has
begun to be very friendly with Phil, though I'm not sure that Phil cares
very much in return,--he's so short with Chad sometimes.
But, dear me! all this isn't what I started to say; I was telling you
about those awful nightmare weeks. Well, to go back, there was Fee in
bed upstairs, just as brave-hearted as he could be, but getting thinner
and paler every day; and there was papa in the extension--he's slept
down there ever since dear mamma died--in bed too, and desperately ill.
The doctor came two and three and four times a day, and the house was
kept as still as could be; we just stole through the halls, and scurried
up the stairs like so many mice, so's not to make any noise, and because
the constant muttering that we could hear from the sick-room made us
feel so badly,--at least it did us older ones, the younger children
didn't understand.
Papa doesn't usually say very much; but now he was out of his head, and
he just talked the whole time, and loud, so one couldn't help hearing
what he said.


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