ngs.

"Ye mean," she asked, with quick intaking of breath, "that I can't be
your woman if I don't tell you?"

A flush crawled to his forehead as the rich young voice flung the
question at him. She was so maddeningly beautiful, so young and
clinging! But she must bend to his will in a thing like this! In his
desire to set her right, he answered somewhat harshly.

"You must tell me; of course, you must!"

Fledra threw him a glance, pleading for leniency. She had expected him
to importune, to scold, but in the end to trust. Suddenly, in the
girl's imagination, Ann's gentle face bending over Floyd rose in its
loving kindness.

"Then--then," she stammered, "if you won't have me, unless I tell
you--then I'll go now--please!"

She left him with pathetic dignity, and her last glance showed his eyes,
too, filled with a strange pain.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The next week held unutterable pain for Flea, each twenty-four hours
deepening her unhappiness more and more. She made no effort to talk with
Shellington, nor did she mention her sorrow to Ann. It did not seem
necessary to her that she should again speak to Horace of going away.
When she had last suggested it, he had said that nothing she could do
would alter his decision about his home being hers until Floyd should be
well. Nevertheless, an innate pride surged constantly within her. Any
deprivation would be more welcome than the studied toleration that, she
thought, she encountered in Horace.

One morning she stood looking questioningly down at her brother.

"How near well are ye, Fluke?"

"Ain't never goin' to get well!" he replied, shivering. "'Tain't easy to
get pains out of a feller's bones when they once get in."

"If you do get well soon, I think we'd better go away."

"Why?" demanded Flukey.

"Because we wasn't asked to stay only till you got well."

"Don't ye believe it, Flea! Ye wasn't here last night. Brother Horace
and Sister Ann thought I was to sleep, and I wasn't."

"What did they say?" broke in the girl, with whitening face.

"Sister Ann told Mr. Shellington about yer work at school, and he
said--as how--"

Floyd waited a moment before continuing, and Flea crept closer to the
bed. She was crying softly as she knelt down and bent her face over her
brother. The boy passed his hands through the black curls.

"What's the matter, Flea?"

"I want to know what my Prince said to Sister Ann."

"Be ye crying about him?"

"Yes!"

"Ye love