oes and waved her hands, when he moved his feet, threw
back his head, lifted his hand to it, and acted like he was almost over
it, and still in shape to manage himself. She hurried to tell Mrs.
Pryor, and I know mother didn't like it when she never even said she
was glad, or went to see for herself.

Laddie and the Princess watched him, while every one else went to
supper. Laddie picked up Mrs. Pryor's chair, carried her to the
dining-room, and set her in my place beside father. He placed Dr.
Fenner next her, and left Robert to sit with Shelley. I don't think
Mrs. Pryor quite liked that, but no one asked her.

I watched and listened until everything seemed to be going right there,
and then I slipped into the parlour, where Laddie and the Princess were
caring for Mr. Pryor. With one hand Laddie held hers, the other
grasped Mr. Pryor's wrist. Laddie never took his eyes from that white,
drawn face, except to smile at her, and squeeze her hand every little
while. At last Mr. Pryor turned over and sighed, pretty soon he opened
his eyes, and looked at Laddie, then at the Princess, and it was
nothing new to see them, so he smiled and dozed again. After a while
he opened them wider, then he saw the piano--that was an eye-opener for
any one--and the strange room, so he asked, most as plain as he ever
talked, why he was at our house again, and then he began to remember.
He struggled to sit up and the colour came into his face. So Laddie
let go the Princess, and held him down while he said: "Mr. Pryor,
answer me this. Do you want to spend the remainder of your life in an
invalid's chair, or would you like to walk abroad and sit a horse
again?"

He glared at Laddie, but he heard how things were plainly enough.

Laddie held him, while he explained what a fight we had to unlock his
muscles, and start him going again, and how, if we hadn't loved him,
and wanted him so, and had left him untouched until the Doctor came,
very likely he'd have been paralyzed all the rest of his life, if he
hadn't died; and he said he wished he HAD, and he didn't THANK any one
for saving him.

"Oh yes you do!" said Laddie, the same as he'd have talked to Leon.
"You can't stuff me on that, and you needn't try. Being dead is a
cold, clammy proposition, that all of us put off as long as we can.
You know you want to see Pamela in her own home. You know you are
interested in how I come out with those horses. You know you want the
little peop