“Shall I speak with Mrs. Vandecar about it this afternoon?” asked Ann.

“Yes, just sound her, and see what she says.”

“I might as well go to her right away, then, Horace.  You talk with the little girl about going to school while I’m gone.  You can do so much more with her than I can.”

“All right,” said Horace, “and I feel very sure that we won’t have any trouble with her.”

After seeing his sister depart, he returned to the library and, before settling himself in a chair, sent a summons to Flea.

When the girl appeared, Horace rose and cast smiling eyes of approval over her.

“That’s a mighty pretty dress you have on,” said he.  “Was it Sister’s idea to put that lacy, frilly stuff on it?”

Flea crimsoned at his praise, as she nodded affirmation.

“Sit here in this chair,” invited Shellington.  “I want to have a little chat with you this afternoon.”

Unconsciously Flea put herself into an attitude of graceful attention and gazed at him worshipfully.  At that moment Horace felt how very much he desired that she grow into a good woman.

“How do you think your brother is today?” he questioned kindly.

“He’s awful sick,” replied Flea.

“I fear, too, that he will be very ill for a long time.  He was filled with the fever when he came here.  Now, my sister and I have been talking it over—­”

Flea rose half-hesitantly.

“And ye wants me to take him some’ers else?” she questioned.

Horace motioned again for her to be seated.

“Sit down, child,” said he; “you’re quite wrong in your hasty guess.  No, of course, you’re not to go away.  But my sister and I desire that while you are here you should study, and that you should come in contact with other girls of your own age.  We want you to go to school.”

“Study—­study what?”

“Why, learn to read and write, and—­”

“Ye mean I have to leave Flukey, and—­and you?”

She had risen and had come close to him, her eyes filled with burning tears.  Horace felt his throat tighten:  for any emotion in this girl affected him strangely.

“Oh, no!  You won’t go away from home—­at least, not at night; only for a few hours in the daytime.  I’m awfully anxious that you should learn, Flea.”

She came even closer as she said: 

“I’ll do anything you want me to—­’cause ye be the best ole duffer in New York State!” Then she whirled and fled from the room.

* * * * *

Ann Shellington rang the Vandecar doorbell, and a few minutes later was ushered upstairs.  Mrs. Vandecar was in a negligee gown, and Katherine was brushing the invalid’s hair.

“Pardon me, Ann dear,” said Mrs. Vandecar, “for receiving you in this way; but I’m ill today.”

“I’m so sorry!  It’s I who ought to ask pardon for coming.  But I knew that no one could aid me except you in the particular thing I am interested in.”