The Girls of Hillcrest Farm: or, The Secret of the Rocks. Marlowe Amy Bell

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СКАЧАТЬ and stamping of the firemen above were louder.

      Two black, serpent-like lines of hose encumbered the stairs.

      “Take care of yourself,” called the young man. “I’ll be back in a jiffy with the doctor,” and, bareheaded, and in shirt-sleeves as he was, he dashed down the dark and smoky stairway.

      Lyddy bent over her father again; he was breathing more peacefully, it seemed. But when she spoke to him he did not answer.

      ’Phemie ran in, crying. “What is the matter with father?” she demanded, as she noted his strange silence. Then, without waiting for an answer, she snapped:

      “And Aunt Jane’s got her head out of the window scolding at the firemen in the street because they do not come up and carry her downstairs again.”

      “Oh, the fire’s nearly out, I guess,” groaned Lyddy.

      Then the girls clutched each other and were stricken speechless as a great crash sounded from the kitchen. As the young man from the laboratory had prophesied, the ceiling had fallen.

      “And I had the nicest biscuits for supper I ever made,” moaned Lyddy. “They were just as fluffy – ”

      “Oh, bother your biscuits!” snapped ’Phemie. “Have you had the doctor for father?”

      “I–I’ve sent for one,” replied Lyddy, faintly, suddenly conscience-stricken by the fact that she had accepted the assistance of the young stranger, to whom she had never been introduced! “Oh, dear! I hope he comes soon.”

      “How long has he been this way, Lyd? Why didn’t you send for me?” demanded the younger sister, clasping her hands and leaning over the unconscious man.

      “Why, he came home from work just as usual. I–I didn’t notice that he was worse,” replied the older girl, breathlessly. “He said he’d lie down – ”

      “You should have called the doctor then.”

      “Why, dear, I tell you he seemed just the same. He almost always lies down when he comes home now. You know that.”

      “Forgive me, Lyddy!” exclaimed ’Phemie, contritely. “Of course you are just as careful of father as you can be. But–but it’s so awful to see him lie like this.”

      “He fainted without my knowing a thing about it,” moaned Lyddy.

      “Oh! if it’s only just a faint – ”

      “He couldn’t even have heard the noise upstairs over the fire.”

      Just then a stream of water descended through the cracked bedroom ceiling, first upon the back of ’Phemie’s neck, and then upon the drugget which covered the floor.

      “Suppose this ceiling falls, too?” wailed Lyddy, wringing her hands.

      “I hope not! And we’ll have to pay the doctor when he comes, Lyd. Have you got money enough in your purse?”

      “I–I guess so.”

      “I’ll not have any more after this week,” broke out ’Phemie, suddenly. “They told me to-day the rush for Easter would be over Saturday night and they would have to let me go till next season. Isn’t that mean?”

      Lydia Bray had sat down upon the edge of their father’s bed.

      “I guess everything has happened at once,” she sighed. “I don’t see what we shall do, ’Phemie.”

      There came a scream from Aunt Jane. She charged into the bedroom wildly, the back of her dress all wet and her bonnet dangling over one ear.

      “Why, your parlor ceiling is just spouting water, girls!” she cried.

      Then she turned to look closely at the man on the bed. “John Bray looks awful bad, Lyddy. What does the doctor say?”

      Before her niece could reply there came a thundering knock at the hall door.

      “The doctor!” cried ’Phemie.

      Lyddy feared it was the young stranger returning, and she could only gasp. What should she say to him if he came in? How introduce him to Aunt Jane?

      But the latter lady took affairs into her own hands at this juncture and went to the door. She unlocked and threw it open. Several helmets and glistening rubber coats appeared vaguely in the hall.

      “Getting wet down here some; aren’t you?” asked one of the firemen. “We’ll spread some tarpaulins over your stuff. Fire’s out–about.”

      “And the water’s in,” returned Aunt Jane, tartly. “Nice time to come and try to save a body’s furniture – ”

      “Get it out of the adjusters. They’ll be around,” said the fireman, with a grin.

      “How much insurance have you, Lyddy?” demanded the aunt, when the firemen, after covering the already wet and bedraggled furniture, had clumped out in their heavy boots.

      “Not a penny, Aunt Jane!” cried her niece, wildly. “I never thought of it!”

      “Ha! you’re not so much like your mother, then, as I thought. She would never have overlooked such a detail.”

      “I know it! I know it!” moaned Lyddy.

      “Now, you stop that, Aunt Jane!” exclaimed the bolder ’Phemie. “Don’t you hound Lyd. She’s done fine–of course she has! But anybody might forget a thing like insurance.”

      “Humph!” grunted the old lady. Then she began again:

      “And what’s the matter with John?”

      “It’s the shop, Aunt,” replied Lyddy. “He cannot stand the work any longer. I wish he might never go back to that place again.”

      “And how are you going to live? What’s ’Phemie getting a week?”

      “Nothing–after this week,” returned the younger girl, shortly. “I sha’n’t have any work, and I’ve only been earning six dollars.”

      “Humph!” observed Aunt Jane for a second time.

      There came a light tap on the door. They could hear it, for the confusion and shouting in the house had abated. The fire scare was over; but the floor above was gutted, and a good deal of damage by water had been done on this floor.

      It was a physician, bag in hand. ’Phemie let him in. Lyddy explained how her father had come home and lain down and she had found him, when the fire scare began, unconscious on the bed–just as he lay now.

      A few questions explained to the physician the condition of Mr. Bray, and his own observation revealed the condition of the tenement.

      “He will be better off at the hospital. You are about wrecked here, I see. That young man who called me said he would ring up the City Hospital.”

      The girls were greatly troubled; but Aunt Jane was practical.

      “Of course, that’s the best place for him,” she said. “Why! this СКАЧАТЬ