OF THE BOOKS
"If you'll be especially careful of it, William, and I've put in slips of paper at the best ones. And as soon as he gets better, I'd be glad if he'd send it back—if he's through with it."
The days seemed long without it. The heat was intense, and when Miss Mather stayed at home a day or two, and all the summer people came in for books, he had a great deal to do. Miss Watkins was very glad of his help, now.
One hot Saturday afternoon he did not return to the library, but began a resolute journey to the Vanderhoofs big house on the hill. It was almost two miles, and he went slowly; now and then he stopped to rest on the stone horse-blocks. It took him an hour to get there, and at the door he had to stop to wipe his forehead and get his breath.
"I came to ask how Clarence was," he said to the maid.
"He's better, thank you, but it's dreadful sick he's been. 'Twas scarlet fever, dear," she answered, with a pitying glance at the crutch, "Not that you need be worried, for the half of the house is shut off, and we've not been near it," she added.
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