The Greatest Works of J. M. Barrie: 90+ Titles in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). James Matthew Barrie

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      'You are a liar, you know,' Rob said feebly; 'she's not your sister.'

      'No, of course not,' said Dick, humouring him.

      'I want to see her,' Rob said authoritatively.

      'Certainly,' answered Dick, escaping into the other room to tell Mary that the patient was raving again.

      'I heard him,' said Mary.

      'Well, what's to be done?' asked her brother. 'He's madder than ever.'

      'Oh no, I think he's getting on nicely now,' Mary said, moving toward the bedroom.

      'Don't,' exclaimed Dick, getting in front of her; 'why, I tell you his mind is wandering. He says you're not my sister.'

      'Of course he can't understand so long as he thinks your name is Simms.'

      'But he knows my name is Abinger. Didn't I tell you I heard him groaning it over to himself?'

      'Oh, Dick,' said Mary, 'I wish you would go away and write a stupid article.'

      Dick, however, stood at the door, ready to come to his sister's assistance if Rob got violent.

      'He says you are his sister,' said the patient to Mary.

      'So I am,' said Mary softly. 'My brother writes under the name of Noble Simms, but his real name is Abinger. Now you must lie still and think about that; you are not to talk any more.'

      'I won't talk any more,' said Rob slowly. 'You are not going away, though?'

      'Just for a little while,' Mary answered. 'The doctor will be here presently.'

      'Well, you have quieted him,' Dick admitted.

      They were leaving the room, when they heard Rob calling.

      'There he goes again,' said Dick, groaning.

      'What is it?' Mary asked, returning to the bedroom.

      'Why did he say you were not his sister?' Rob said, very suspiciously.

      'Oh, his mind was wandering,' Mary answered cruelly.

      She was retiring again, but stopped undecidedly. Then she looked from the door to see if her brother was within hearing. Dick was at the other end of the sitting-room, and she came back noiselessly to Rob's bedside.

      'Do you remember,' she asked, in a low voice, 'how the accident happened? You know you were struck by a cab.'

      'Yes,' answered Rob at once, 'I saw him kissing you. I don't remember anything after that.'

      Mary, looking like a culprit, glanced hurriedly at the door. Then she softly pushed the invalid's unruly hair off his brow, and glided from the room smiling.

      'Well?' asked Dick.

      'He was telling me how the accident happened,' Mary said.

      'And how was it?'

      'Oh, just as you said. He got bewildered at a crossing and was knocked over.'

      'But he wasn't the man to lose his reason at a crossing,' said Dick. 'There must have been something to agitate him.'

      'He said nothing about that,' replied Mary, without blushing.

      'Did he tell you how he knew my name was Abinger?' Dick asked, as they went downstairs.

      'No,' his sister said, 'I forgot to ask him.'

      'There was that Christmas card, too,' Dick said suddenly. 'Nell says Angus must be in love, poor fellow.'

      'Nell is always thinking people are in love,' Mary answered severely.

      'By the way,' said Dick, 'what became of the card? He might want to treasure it, you know.'

      'I—I rather think I put it somewhere,' Mary said.

      'I wonder,' Dick remarked curiously, 'what sort of girl Angus would take to?'

      'I wonder,' said Mary.

      They were back in Dick's chambers by this time, and he continued with some complacency—for all men think they are on safe ground when discussing an affair of the heart:—

      'We could build the young lady up from the card, which, presumably, was her Christmas offering to him. It was not expensive, so she is a careful young person; and the somewhat florid design represents a blue bird sitting on a pink twig, so that we may hazard the assertion that her artistic taste is not as yet fully developed. She is a fresh country maid, or the somewhat rich colouring would not have taken her fancy, and she is short, a trifle stout, or a big man like Angus would not have fallen in love with her. Reserved men like gushing girls, so she gushes and says "Oh my!" and her nicest dress (here Dick shivered) is of a shiny satin with a dash of rich velvet here and there. Do you follow me?'

      'Yes,' said Mary; 'it is wonderful. I suppose, now, you are never wrong when you "build up" so much on so little?'

      'Sometimes we go a little astray,' admitted Dick. 'I remember going into a hotel with Rorrison once, and on a table we saw a sailor-hat lying, something like the one Nell wears—or is it you?'

      'The idea of your not knowing!' said his sister indignantly.

      'Well, we discussed the probable owner. I concluded, after narrowly examining the hat, that she was tall, dark, and handsome, rather than pretty. Rorrison, on the other hand, maintained that she was a pretty, baby-faced girl, with winning ways.'

      'And did you discover if either of you was right?'

      'Yes,' said Dick slowly. 'In the middle of the discussion a little boy in a velvet suit toddled into the room, and said to us, "Gim'me my hat."'

      In the weeks that followed, Rob had many delicious experiences. He was present at several tea-parties in Abinger's chambers, the guests being strictly limited to three; and when he could not pretend to be ill any longer, he gave a tea-party himself in honour of his two nurses—his one and a half nurses, Dick called them. At this Mary poured out the tea, and Rob's eyes showed so plainly (though not to Dick) that he had never seen anything like it, that Nell became thoughtful, and made a number of remarks on the subject to her mother as soon as she returned home.

      'It would never do,' Nell said, looking wise.

      'Whatever would the colonel say!' exclaimed Mrs. Meredith. 'After all, though,' she added—for she had been to see Rob twice, and liked him because of something he had said to her about his mother—'he is just the same as Richard.'

      'Oh no, no,' said Nell, 'Dick is an Oxford man, you must remember, and Mr. Angus, as the colonel would say, rose from obscurity.'

      'Well, if he did,' persisted Mrs. Meredith, 'he does not seem to be going back to it, and universities seem to me to be places for making young men stupid.'

      'It would never, never do,' said Nell, with doleful decision.

      'What does Mary say about him?' asked her mother.

      'She СКАЧАТЬ