Speak, young man! Is she going to die? Why don't they bring that bread and milk? I never saw a little child faint like this. I believe she is already dead and it is I who have killed her. Oh, what an old fool I am!"
Considering Robert Taylor had spent sixty-five years in perfect conviction that he was very wise and always right, it was a strange thing that in one morning he had twice acknowledged himself to be a fool.
"She is not going to die, I am sure," consoled Philip. "There, now she is opening her eyes!"
Open them she did for a moment, but the lashes seemed too heavy for the weary lids and again they rested on the pale cheeks. A sigh escaped from the cold lips. It was hard to have to come back to consciousness and not be dead, after all. But what was that good smell? She sniffed daintily.
"Wha' 'bouts air the po' critter?" asked Aunt Testy as she came waddling in, carrying a small tray.
"Well, bless Bob, if she ain't a layin' up in ol' Marster's baid! Here, honey baby, here's a lil' bite er sumpin' fer yer. What all this I hearn 'bout you ain't et no brekfus? I done briled a bit er bacin, sliced as thin as thin, an' I
