Part 30 (1/2)
”What did you do with it?”
Ernest did not deign to reply.
”Bet you spent it for those grapes for Marian.”
Ernest drummed on the window.
”She doesn't 'spect you to take your marble money for her, goosie. Say, Ernest, what's the matter?”
The boy swallowed painfully.
”Tell me, Ernest, I won't tell. Honest to goodness, I won't.” Jane cuddled up close to him laying her face against his shoulder caressingly.
Ernest was not proof against her sympathy and he blurted out his remorse.
”'Tisn't your fault a speck--you didn't tease her to come.”
Chicken Little patted and argued in vain. Ernest found her comforting, but did not feel that she was old enough to understand.
Chicken Little took the matter up with Marian the very next day. She began very diplomatically because she had promised not to tell.
”Do you s'pose you'd got sick if you hadn't come to see Ernest that day, Marian?”
”Probably not, dear.”
This was not rea.s.suring.
”But you might have gone some place else, mightn't you?”
”I suppose so--only I don't think I should have been silly enough to go out in that storm without a good reason.”
”But it wasn't Ernest's fault it stormed,” Jane replied plaintively.
”Ernest's fault? Why, what do you mean?” Marian looked at the child in astonishment.
Jane's face was very sober.
”I just guess he couldn't help if it you got all cold and----”
”Of course not, Jane, what put such an idea into your head! I should have had more sense than to venture out in such a storm. Does Ernest--is that why he brings me all those things and hangs round so?--the poor boy? Dear me, this will never do.”
”He wouldn't like it if he knew I told you,” said Chicken Little ruefully.
”You haven't told me, dear. I guessed it, but I'll find a way to stop his worrying.”
April came and went and Marian was still pale and weak. Dr. Morton looked grave and finally suggested to Frank that they should have the famous Dr. Brownleigh of Chicago down to examine Marian's lungs. Frank went white at the suggestion, but quietly acquiesced. Two days later the great doctor arrived.
Chicken Little knew there was some excitement afoot that morning when she went to school. Both Dr. and Mrs. Morton looked sad and Mrs. Morton sighed frequently. Ernest pushed most of his breakfast away untasted.
”What time will he be here, Father?”