"
"Dear me! is he ill?" said Mrs. Watson, in an aggrieved tone. "I wasn't
prepared for that. You'll have your hands pretty full with him and me
both, won't you?--for though I'm well enough just now, there's no knowing
what a day may bring forth, and you're all I have to depend upon. You're
sure you must go? It seems as if your sister--Mrs. Worthing, is that the
name?--might see to the medicine, and give you a little freedom. Don't let
your brother be too exacting, dear. It is the worst thing for a young man.
I'll sit here a little while, and then I'll--The conductor will help me, I
suppose, or perhaps that gentleman might--I hate to be left by myself."
These were the last words which Clover heard as she escaped. She entered
Car Forty-seven with such a rueful and disgusted countenance that
everybody burst out laughing.
"What is the matter, Miss Clover?" asked Mr. Dayton. "Has your old lady
left something after all?"
"Don't call her _my_ old lady! I'm supposed to be her young lady, under
her charge," said Clover, trying to smile. But the moment she got Katy to
herself, she burst out with,--
"My dear, what _am_ I going to do? It's really too dreadful. Instead of
some one to help me, which is what papa meant, Mrs. Watson seems to depend
on me to take all the care of her; and she says she has fainting fits and
disease of the heart! How can I take care of her? Phil needs me all the
time, and a great deal more than she does; I don't see how I can.
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