"What about the measles? You don't think you're getting them, do you?

Have you been exposed?"

"You don't have to be exposed to get the measles."

"Oh, but you do, I know. Else why is mother always so careful to keep us away from any one who has measles?"

"Oh, I suppose you can catch them from somebody else, but you can get them without being exposed, too, because Edward's mother said he hadn't been exposed, so there."

"She said she couldn't find out that he'd been exposed," corrected Jane.

"But I'd like to know what difference it makes now, Kit Baker. Do you feel as if you were getting the measles?"

"Not exactly, only-why, don't you see? If one of us was to get the measles, we couldn't go back to town so soon. And whichever one of us had 'em would have a bully time, with presents and sweetbreads and things," he added hastily, as if offering an inducement.

Jane considered. She felt sure that there was something behind Christopher's words-something he was trying to make her understand; but she could not make out what it was.

"Well, anyway," she announced finally, "I haven't the measles, nor anything else. I don't know about you, but if you are coming down with anything you'll have plenty of time to get over it before we go home."

Which practical speech ended the conversation for the present.

Whatever Christopher's deep-laid schemes were, he decided that the time was not yet ripe to unfold them. Then, too, there might be no necessity.

He would wait and see.

But immediately after breakfast, two days before the steamship "Metric"

was due to arrive in New York, he came upon his grandparents as they were ending a private consultation. Christopher overheard grandmother say:

"It will have to be Monday, then, two days after they get here."

The words set Christopher thinking. As usually happens when one overhears something intended for other ears, he misunderstood grandmother's meaning and jumped to the conclusion that the Monday to which grandmother referred was the day set for their return to the city.

To leave Sunnycrest and all its joys, the freedom, the open air, country life! To leave on Monday and this was Thursday! Clearly there was no time to be lost. He rushed off to find Jane, carried her to the most remote corner of the orchard and there they sat a good hour or more, quite beyond the reach of ears, however sharp, but showing, had any one been interested enough to watch, that the topic under discussion was very weighty-and with two sides to it, to judge from Jane's determined att.i.tude and Christopher's of persuasion.

It had been arranged that grandfather and grandmother were to go to the city on Friday afternoon, sleep there overnight, meet the ship which was to dock very early in the morning and bring the twins' parents back with them to Sunnycrest on Sat.u.r.day.

Grandmother, who believed in being punctual always, had already packed her bag and was in readiness for the journey quite soon after breakfast, although they did not have to start until after an earlier dinner than usual.

But shortly after eleven o'clock Jane came into the house looking very much flushed and complained of not feeling well. Even as she spoke, she turned white and became very ill. Christopher, who had followed her to the door of grandmother's room, looked on with deep concern.

"Why, Kit," exclaimed grandmother, "what have you and Janey been doing?"

"Playing," answered Christopher briefly. He seemed to have lost his usual too-ready tongue. "We were just playing."

"Was Janey swinging in the hammock or anything that could have made her so seasick?"

"We weren't near the hammock," answered Christopher frankly. "Are you going to send for the doctor, grandmother?"

"I hope it won't be necessary," replied grandmother anxiously. "Please ask Huldah to come up-stairs, Kit. I'll get Janey to bed."

Jane appeared so limp and miserable that grandmother decided (greatly to her secret disappointment) to give up her journey to town and stay at home with her, letting grandfather go by himself.

"And it will be a melancholy meeting with such anxious news for the children's father and mother," she added regretfully.

"Oh, Jane's not as ill as that," expostulated Christopher.

"She's-she's-it'll just keep us from going home so soon, perhaps, but that's all. You go ahead to town, grandmother. I'll take care of Janey-me and Huldah. And perhaps Letty'll come out and read to us."

"Oh, I should be afraid to let Letty come until I know what the matter is. Janey may be coming down with something. It is most distressing, and Dr. Greene is away up country and won't be back to-night."

And grandmother, cheerful, serene grandmother, actually cried a little.

But then you see, she was both worried about Jane's sudden, somewhat mysterious illness, and disappointed that she should have such distressing news to give the children's mother just at this last moment when everything had gone so beautifully all summer long.

"Don't you think you'd better go?" urged grandfather. He, too, was disappointed, for he and grandmother rarely traveled and always enjoyed their little excursions together. "Don't you think Janey's mother might worry more than she need if you stay behind? She will think it more serious than it really is."

"It is serious enough to make me unwilling to leave Janey," answered grandmother positively. "I should worry every single instant if I were away from her. I could not stand it, not knowing how she is every minute. With her symptoms she might be coming down with almost anything."

"But I don't think she's very ill," put in Christopher again. "You just tell father and mother she'll be all right in a week or two if they--"

"In a week or two!" exclaimed grandmother, looking ready to cry again.

"I hope it is not going to be so long an illness as that!"

Christopher blushed and hung his head, while grandfather again urged the wisdom of going to town together as they had originally planned. But grandmother was firm. She changed her dress and went back to Jane's room. Jane set up a wail when she heard that grandmother was to remain at home.

"I am not ill, grandmother, not a bit!" she moaned. "I-I--"

"Be careful, Jane," called Christopher from the doorway of his own room.

"You'll-you'll get sick again."

Jane dropped back in bed and began to cry. Grandmother knelt down and did her best to comfort her, but Jane sobbed on quite heedlessly.

Grandfather and Christopher had to sit down to dinner alone, as grandmother would not leave Jane and grandfather could not wait or he would miss his train. It was rather a melancholy meal. Grandfather ate hardly anything and even Christopher's appet.i.te failed. He watched his grandfather off and rode on the step of the carriage as far as the gate, but he did not ask permission to go all the way to Hammersmith, for the sake of the ride, as grandfather and Joshua had both expected him to do.

"The boy seems quite unlike himself," grandfather remarked to Joshua as they drove away. "He takes Janey's illness very much to heart."

"I always agreed there was a lot of character in that boy," replied Joshua heartily.

Christopher was told, when he got back to the house, that Jane was asleep and must on no account be disturbed, so he tiptoed disconsolately away and cast about for something to do. He began to be sorry he had not asked leave to ride into the village.

At about five o'clock grandmother called him. Jane was awake and feeling ever so much better-almost like herself in fact. Would Christopher sit with her a short time while grandmother went to her own room?

Jane, who had been sitting up in bed playing quite happily with her paper dolls, dropped back on her pillow when Christopher came in and turning her back, refused to speak to him. Grandmother had already left the room.

"Sit up, Jane," commanded Christopher, closing the door and drawing a small black lacquered box from his pocket.

"I won't," said Jane flatly. "You are a horrid, wicked boy and I don't like you."

"But you promised."

"You spoiled grandmother's trip to town and mother'll be scared 'most to death when she hears I'm too ill to let grandmother go."

"I can't help that. I didn't know grandmother would stay home when it wasn't necessary, and you promised--"