CHAPTER IX.

"A SLIP BETWIXT."

FOR a few days the donkey carriage was in everybody's thoughts, and nothing else could be done. They went into the forest again, and spent a whole day there (a happier day than the last, May said, edging up close to Lucia to whisper it), and Neddy could easily draw the basket of provisions, and even the kettle full of the water for their tea.

But though the girls did not seem to tire of roaming about picking flowers, and taking turns in riding in the little carriage; and though Lucia was perfectly happy with her sketching wherever they liked to take her, the two boys had a project which effectually kept them from "settling down," as nurse was wont to call it.

One morning at breakfast, when the plans for the day were being discussed, Evan asked Lucia if he and Ivor might go into Windsor that morning.

"I don't care to walk so far in this heat," exclaimed nurse; "we'd far better stay in the garden to-day."

"We could go alone, couldn't we, Lucia?" asked Ivor.

Lucia looked puzzled; she glanced out of the window, and then back at their little eager faces.

"I do not suppose you could come to any harm," she said; "but I wish you had been happy to stay here to-day."

"Oh, do let us!" coaxed Ivor. "We have been awfully good now, haven't we? Not a bit of trouble; and we will be back by dinner time."

"I should think so!" exclaimed Lucia. "Of course you will, long before that."

The boys discreetly said no more; they considered that this was permission, and would not run the chance of its being revoked.

So, before nurse and Lucia had finished the little housekeeping duties which generally occupied them for a short time, the two boys were well on their way, their money jingling in their pockets, and their hearts beating in anticipation of their "spree."

About half an hour before dinner the happy party on the lawn saw the two boys coming slowly along the road.

"They look tired enough," remarked nurse; "they should have taken my advice, and not have gone on such a day; and footsore too, I do declare! I'm sure Evan is limping."

Lucia ran to meet them. "My dear boys!" she exclaimed. "You have been a long time; what has kept you so long?"

"What have you been doing?" asked Ivor, gazing across the lawn at the rest.

"Nothing particular," answered Lucia, still lingering by Evan. "Have you hurt your foot?"

"Yes, a little; I've sprained it, I think. I slipped over—It's nothing, only my head aches."

"Come indoors," said Lucia, "and I will see to your foot."

"Oh dear no, it's nothing. I'll go indoors and get ready for dinner."

He went, Ivor following as soon as he could get away from his sisters' questions. And they saw no more of them till dinner was on the table.

"Let us hear all you have done," said Lucia, when she had carved round, and could think of anything else. "Where did you go, and what did you do?"

But very little could be got out of them, except that they had been up the Round Tower, and that Evan had slipped on the stairs coming down. What they had bought did not transpire, though Barbara pumped them sufficiently to elicit that they had spent some of their money "on something."

"I 'spect it's sweets," said Queenie, shaking her curls; "that's what made Evan sick."

For Evan tried to eat his dinner, but failed, and had to condescend to lie down, and be made comfortable by nurse.

"It's the sun, I expect," she said to Lucia. "I wish we hadn't let them go, Miss Lucia; you're too easy with them!"

Evan's headache, however, did not pass away.

And by evening Lucia began to fear that something serious was the matter.

They decided to send for the doctor, and when he came, their fears were by no means allayed.

Ivor walked about with misery written on his face. And when at the end of the second day Evan was no better, his distress knew no bounds.

Barbara, passing from the nursery to her room, heard him sobbing in his bed.

She ran in, and began to comfort him in her sweet, motherly little way; but Ivor could not be comforted, and besought her that he might just go in and speak to Evan for one moment.

"We must not; indeed, we must not!" she exclaimed. "The doctor is downstairs, and he says it is a crisis; and if we were to wake him now—"

"But I can't bear it," urged Ivor. "I promised Evan, and I am going to break my promise. I must go and ask Evan first."

"What do you mean?" asked Barbara, drawing back.

"Supposing Evan were to die! I never thought of that! We both promised each other we wouldn't tell; but we never thought of this!"

"Is it something you ought to tell?" asked Barbara, putting her arm round his shoulders.

Ivor nodded.

"Then let's go down and tell Lucia now."

But Ivor held her back. "I must see Evan first," he besought. "If he's asleep, I won't speak a word; but if he's awake, he'll understand. I must peep at him, Barbara. Do let me."

The little girl was terribly frightened, especially as Ivor was already at the door and half-way across the passage. Fear of making matters worse by causing a commotion made her follow him through the half-open door, but no words could express her dismay at what she was made a party to.

There lay Evan in that sort of unconscious sleep which had so alarmed every one, and in the dim, darkened room—surely that was the doctor sitting by the bedside, holding his watch in his hand!

Ivor saw him too, and without a sound the two children crept back to the other room.