"Well, you better talk it over with HIM," she said, with perceptible
nervousness. "He better tell you himself. I don't feel as if I had
any call, exactly, to go into it; and you better get to sleep now,
anyway." She came and stood by the bedside once more. "But you must
remember, Bibbs, whatever papa does is for the best. He loves his
chuldern and wants to do what's right by ALL of 'em--and you'll always
find he's right in the end."
He made a little gesture of assent, which seemed to content her; and
she rustled to the door, turning to speak again after she had opened
it. "You get a good nap, now, so as to be all rested up for
to-night."
"You--you mean--he--" Bibbs stammered, having begun to speak too
quickly. Checking himself, he drew a long breath, then asked,
quietly, "Does father expect me to come down-stairs this evening?"
"Well, I think he does," she answered. "You see, it's the 'house-
warming,' as he calls it, and he said he thinks all our chuldern ought
to be around us, as well as the old friends and other folks. It's
just what he thinks you need--to take an interest and liven up. You
don't feel too bad to come down, do you?"
"Mother?"
"Well?"
"Take a good look at me," he said.
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