At length she gasped, opened one eye, gasped
again, opened both and faintly whispered,--
"Is he dead? Tell me gently. Was it lock-jaw?"
Then the doctor's professional dignity gave way. Dropping into the
nearest chair, he laughed, and laughed, and laughed again, while
Mr. Baxter grew more and more shamefaced, and Miss Roberts more
and more exasperated at his unseemly merriment. When he could
speak again, he answered,--
"Lockjaw; no. This was all your fault, Jane. You read till the
poor man was so sleepy that he fairly yawned his jaw out of
joint."
And this time the doctor's shout was echoed by his wife and the
two children.
CHAPTER XIX.
KATHARINE'S CALL.
The next afternoon Katharine and Florence sat on the side piazza
of the Hapgood house, Florence in the hammock, Katharine curled up
among the cushions of a bamboo lounge, idly stroking the back of
Scott, Molly's plump tiger kitten.
"Well, Scotty," she was saying caressingly, as she held up the
little creature and gazed straight into its yellow eyes, "are you
feeling happy in your mind to-day? Well, so am I."
"What a queer name I" said Florence. "Where did Molly ever get
it?"
Katharine laughed.
Pages:
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300