d" which Elsa ordered, and lifted Mrs.
Stillwell's shoulders while the girl held the tin cup to her lips; and
indeed did so many little things so deftly that he didn't recognize
himself.
Even in her half-stupor Lucetta was her own sweet self, for when she
had swallowed the water she smiled upon her nurse and tried to speak.
Elsa anticipated what she knew would be the one great longing of that
mother's heart, and said with an answering smile:
"We've brought your little son safe home. If you can turn your head
you'll see. Right yonder on that bench. He's tired out and, maybe, a
little sick but he's safe. Do you mean you want him right beside you?"
Lucetta made an effort to sit up and opened her arms.
"Lie right still. Don't you fret for one moment. Here's your baby. Now
I'm going home and we'll get a doctor some way and quick. But you
won't be alone. Gerald, whom you took care of when he was ill, is
here. He'll stay and take care of you in turn now. Good-bye. Don't
worry."
She was gone before Gerald could even protest, calling the monkeys to
follow her and limping away faster than anybody else, with two sound
feet, could run. She had taken him at his word, indeed!
CHAPTER XV.
IN THE HEART OF AN ANCIENT WOOD.
Deep in the heart of the September woods there was gathered one
morning a little company of greatly excited people. Old Cap'n Jack was
the wildest of the lot. Next him in point of eagerness was the
Colonel. Corny Stillwell was there; so was his brother Wicky, who had
come across country to see how now fared Lucetta, the "shiftless" wife
of his "energetic" brother. Of late these terms had been exchanged in
the minds of the Wickliffe Stillwells, owing to various statements
made them by their new friends, the "Water Lilies." Being honest and
warm-hearted they hadn't hesitated to express their change of opinion;
and it was a fact that though Lucetta Stillwell had never been so ill
in her life she had never been so comfortable.
Lizzie, her sister-in-law, never allowed herself the extravagance of
keeping "help;" but it was she who had hunted up a good old "Mammy"
and established her in the lean-to of the little cabin. She had bidden
this good cook:
"See to it that Lucetty has nourishments continual, and do for mercy's
sake, feed them skinny childern till they get flesh on their bones!
They're a real disgrace to the neighborhood, the pinched way they
look, and I shan't set easy in meetin' if I
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