"No, I offered to send Jimmy for a doctor, but she said she only
wanted to rest, but I tell you what, Theo, she ain't goin' to get much
rest in that room, hot's an oven with the constant cooking, an' what's
more that baby can't stand it neither."
"I'll go an' see her," replied the boy, slowly, "an'--I guess I don't
want any supper to-night, Mrs. Hunt."
"Yes, you do want supper, too, Theodore. You come back here in half
an hour an' get it, an' look here--Don't worry Nan, talkin' 'bout her
being sick," Mrs. Hunt called after him in a low voice, as he turned
toward the girl's door.
It seemed strange enough to Theodore to see bright, energetic Nan
lying with pale face and idle hands on the bed. She smiled up at the
boy as he stood silent beside the bed finding no words to say.
"I'm only tired, Theo," she said, gently. "It has been so hot to-day,
and Little Brother fretted so that I couldn't get through my work so
well as usual."
"He's sick too," answered Theodore, gravely.
Nan turned her head to look at the little white face on the pillow
beside her.
"Yes, he's sick. Oh Theo"--and then the girl covered her face with her
hands, and Theodore saw the tears trickling through her fingers.
"Don't Nan, don't!" he cried, in a choked voice, and then he turned
and ran out of the room and out of the house.
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