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"So, perhaps you wouldn't object to going down and finis.h.i.+ng off on roast turkey? I ordered the table set for you."
"You did? O, thank you, ma'am!" cried Lady Magnifico, ready to throw herself on the housekeeper's neck.
"I never object to roast turkey myself," said the doctor, his eyes gleaming with delight.
Mother Hubbard said nothing; but she thought she should relish a good dinner as well as her boarders. They all went down but Fly, who was by this time fast asleep in Mrs. Fixfax's arms.
"I reckon the servants thought we'd been wrecked on a desert island, by the dash we made at that turkey," whispered Horace, as they returned to the housekeeper's room.
"How good you were, Horace Clifford, not to tell Mrs. Fixfax about my awful cooking."
"And I didn't tell, either," said Dotty. "But wasn't it _mizzerble_?"
As if Mrs. Fixfax didn't know, and wasn't that very minute laughing over the "tight biscuit" and low-spirited cake!
CHAPTER VII.
A FLY IN TRINITY CHURCH.
The children went to bed that night cheered by a remark which Mrs.
Fixfax dropped as if by accident.
"The cook is to fry buckwheat cakes in the morning. I dare say you would like omelettes, too. Do you drink chocolate?"
"She takes it for granted we are going to eat down stairs," thought Prudy. And now her troubles were over. Life bloomed before her once more like a garden of roses.
Horace did not rest remarkably well. In the first place, the bed was too warm. Mrs. Fixfax had rolled Fly into a big bundle, with nothing out but the end of her nose, and was toasting her with soapstones.
"Buried alive," Horace said, "with gravestones at her head and feet."
"I'm all of a _personation_," gasped the child. "My mamma never did me so, Hollis. She gave me little tinty tonty pills,--sugar clear through,--not the big ones Miss Fixfix eats."
"Well, lie still, Topknot, and don't roll towards me."
For an hour or two Fly lay gasping; then she said, softly,--
"Hollis, Hollis, is He looking now?"
"Yes, dear; but don't be afraid of the good G.o.d."
"I didn't, Hollis, if I wasn't naughty. When I'm good I'm willin' He should look."
"Naughty, Topknot?"
"Yes, Hollis; I _solomon_ promised I wouldn't go ou' doors; but that new Miss Fixfix, she let me gwout, athout nuffin on my head, 'n' I got a awful cold."
"O, little Fly!"
"I know it, Hollis. I was defful sorry all the time. I ate ollinges, too; so for course I got the sore froat."
"I'm glad you told me, Fly; now I know what ails you. But you mustn't ever disobey again."
"Yes, um," said Fly, rolling towards her brother, and crying till the tears ran down on the flannel which was bound around her neck. A few moments after she whispered,--
"Now I don't feel any 'fraid, Hollis; I've telled G.o.d. I feel better, 'n' I'm willin' He should look."
"Well, then, dear, that's right--go to sleep."
"And now, Hollis, do you s'pose He'll send my spirrick back to me?"
"What are you talking about, Topknot? Your spirit's in your body, child.
Go to sleep."
"No, it isn't in my body, too! I want my nice good little spirrick to come back," murmured the child. "Auntie said 'twould stay to me if I's good."
Fly was thinking of her unseen guardian angel.
It was a troubled night for Horace. Fly waked him no less than three times, to ask him if she had the measles.
"No, child, no; don't wake me for that again."
"Well, you ought to not go to sleep 'fore I do. You're a fast boy, Hollis!"
Morning came, and Fly was rather languid, as might have been expected after such a night.
"I don't see," mused Mrs. Fixfax, "where she caught this dreadful cold, unless it was your keeping the room so hot yesterday, children."
Fly hid her face in her brother's back hair, for she was riding pickaback down stairs.
"And can we go to see that Poland lady?" said Dotty.
"If you asked _me_, I answer, No," said Horace, bluntly. "At any rate, Fly mustn't stir a step out of the house to-day."
"I didn't ask you, Horace. I asked Mrs. Fixfax. She is the one that has the care of us."
"I really don't know what to say about it," replied the housekeeper, hesitating. "We will wait and see how she seems after breakfast."
"Rather a cool way of setting my opinion one side," thought Horace, indignantly.
Fly ate only two small buckwheat cakes, but seemed lively enough, as she always did when there was a prospect of going anywhere.
"I don't suppose it is exactly the thing, after steaming her so," said Mrs. Fixfax, as if talking to herself,--she did not even look at Horace;--"but really I don't know what else to do. I couldn't keep her at home unless the rest of the children staid; and if I did I presume she'd get killed some other way. She's one of the kind that's never safe, except in bed, with the door locked, and the key in your pocket."
"Let her manage it to suit herself," thought brother Horace, deeply wounded; "she knows _my_ opinion."