“Is anything the matter?” asked Bess, who was always anxious about her charge.
“No, only he doesn’t feel very well,” answered Rob, as he followed her out of the room. When they were alone in the hall, he went on hurriedly, “He’s poisoned a little, I think, but he doesn’t feel like going to-day, and he wants us all to go and leave him. You make him think we will, and I'll start with you, and then, after you are gone, I’ll come back to the house again. I truly don’t care about it.”
Bess read her little cousin’s generous motive, and as they went up the stairs, she insisted that he should join the frolic, and let her stay; but Rob held firm, and she had to yield, much against her will, for she knew how the boy had anticipated the day’s fun.
A striking picture met Bessie’s gaze, as she went into the boys’ room. Fred had attempted to get up, as usual, but after dressing, he felt so ill and miserable, that he had thrown himself down again. His face had swollen until his eyes were half closed, and its ruddy hue was heightened by its contrast with his white
