pel her to listen to him. So, Annie Millar, this is a pretty kettle
of fish, of which you have been chief cook! There is the greater
reason for you to make up your mind from this moment to devote
yourself wholly to your family, and let nothing--_nothing_," she
protested with suspicious vehemence, "come between you and them."

"What is it, you poor soul?" the young nurse responded quickly to a
movement of the helpless ailing creature beside her. "Do you know there
is somebody here? Will it ease you to have your head raised on my arm,
do you think? You cannot hear or answer, but we'll try that, and then it
is just possible you may drop asleep." And for the rest of the watch
Annie was absorbed in care for her patient.

CHAPTER XX.

REDCROSS AGAIN.

Tom Robinson's subscription list attained the respectable sum-total of
two thousand pounds. Many of the subscribers were not only patients of
Dr. Millar, but creditors of the bank whose claims he had striven with
sturdy honesty to satisfy, till the task proved too hard for his years.

The little Doctor received the token of how greatly his courage and
staunchness in the fulfilment of his obligations had been respected,
with half pained, half pleased gratitude, and this was very much the
attitude of mind of his daughter Annie. The rest of his womankind, from
Mrs. Millar to May, only felt a glad surprise, and a soft, proud
thankfulness.

The relief from present difficulties was great, but of course the gift
did not obviate the necessity for the girls seeking work and wages. Even
May, when she ventured to hope that she might stay at home for a month
or two and be coached by her father and Tom Robinson in anticipation of
a more successful campaign at St. Ambrose's, was eagerly speculating
whether she might not become a coach in her turn. She was fain to earn a
little money by helping the very youngest of the Grammar School boys to
prepare their Latin grammar in the evenings, supposing she could get
them to sit still, and give over wishing her to play with them.

Mr. Pemberton had not only himself called on the Miss Millar who was the
artist, he had brought Lady Mary with him, and both husband and wife had
turned out the refined, thoroughly unassuming, kindly disposed couple
they had looked. They spoke warmly of Tom Robinson as their very good
friend, and went so far as to express enthusiasm for his beautiful old
shop. Mr. Pemberton did better than merely say a few wor