We didn't go very
far, not nearly as far as we used to last winter; and I'd have made it
still shorter, for I could see he was most awfully used up, but Fee
wouldn't give in,--you know he can be obstinate. And when he came into
the drawing-room to sing, he looked wretched,--white as a ghost! Since
I've been home, I've noticed, in a good many little ways, that he
doesn't do as much as he used to,--in the way of moving around; yet,
when I speak to him 'bout it, he either--puts me off, or turns--cranky;
I can't get a thing--out--of--him." Phil's voice had been getting slower
and slower, and almost before he finished the last word he was _asleep_.
I thought he was making believe at first,--he's such a tease,--but I
soon found out that he wasn't. Well, I _was_ astonished; for a minute
I couldn't say a word; I just lay there and looked at him. Then I
remembered how late it was, and called him,--not loud, though, for
fear of waking Felix. "Phil, _Phil_, aren't you coming to bed? it's
awfully late."
"Oh, let me _alone_," he muttered sleepily; then presently he roused up
and began to talk real crossly, but in the same slow voice, and with his
eyes shut: "I'm not a _child_--and I'm not going--to be treated--like
one--you needn't--think so--I'm a _man_--all--the fellows--do
it--'tisn't--any harm--" His head drooped and he was off again.
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