Through These Fires (Musaicum Romance Classics). Grace Livingston Hill

he announced.

      "Oh, do you?" said Lexie calmly. "Well, sit down on this other side, and I'll put a big book on a chair for the baby."

      Amazingly, they were finally seated, eating with zest.

      "I want some more," said Angelica, handing out her plate. "I want some milk, too. You've got milk."

      "Why, of course. You can all have milk!" said Lexie, filling a glass for each one.

      At last without any coaxing they ate, heartily, eagerly, and asked for more.

      When the spinach and potatoes were all gone, except for the small portion she had kept in the warming oven for Elaine in case she would deign to eat it, Lexie brought out a generous plate of cookies and a pear apiece, and the children by this time were almost appreciative.

      "Say, these cookies are good," said Angelica, setting the pace for the others. "They've got good raisins in them."

      "I don't like cookies," said Gerald. "I'druther have chocolate cake."

      "Well, that's too bad," said Lexie sympathetically. "Sorry we haven't any chocolate cake. You don't need to eat cookies if you don't like them," and she drew the plate back and did not pass it to him.

      Gerald's reply was to rise up on his chair and reach out for the plate, knocking over Bluebell's glass of milk and sending a stream of milk over the table.

      "I will so have some cookies! You can't keep me from having some!" declared the obstreperous child. "You just want to keep them all for yourself, but you shan't."

      Lexie, rescuing the glass of milk before the entire contents were broadcast, said gently: "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want some? I understood you to say you didn't like them." She lifted the cookie plate before Gerald succeeded in plunging a willful hand into its midst. "Sit down, Gerald, and I'll pass them to you."

      Gerald settled back astonished, about to howl but thought better of it, and soon had his mouth stuffed full of so much cookie he couldn't speak.

      When that meal was concluded Lexie felt as if she had fought a battle, but she felt reasonably satisfied with the result. The children were still munching cookies and demanding more pears, and Bluebell was nodding with sleep in her chair. Lexie hadn't eaten much except those first few decoy mouthfuls, but she drank a little milk and hurried upstairs with the tray for Elaine. She was greeted as she entered the room by sounds of heartrending sobs, and Elaine turned a woebegone face to meet her.

      "So you did decide to bring me something at last, did you? Of course I am only an uninteresting invalid, and it doesn't matter if I starve, but you certainly might have brought me a crust of bread."

      "Well, I'm sorry, Elaine," said Lexie with a sudden, quick sigh. "I thought you would want the children fed first. And I'm not altogether sure you'll like what I've brought, but it was all I could get to-night. Toast and jam, a glass of milk. It isn't bad if you'd try it. I made a little new omelet for you, too, so it would come to you hot. Of course, it isn't the beefsteak you wanted, but I'm afraid from all I hear, that you won't get much of that these days."

      Elaine surveyed the tray with dissatisfaction and was about to discount everything on it, but Lexie spoke first.

      "Now I'll go and see if I can find some blankets and things to make up beds for the children. They are dropping over with weariness. If you need anything, send Angelica up to the attic after me," and she quickly retired from the room before her sister had time to say anything more. But when she came down, every crumb and drop was gone from the tray, and Elaine had retired to her pillow to prepare for another weeping spell.

      "Did you contact my lawyer?" she asked sharply.

      "Oh no, of course not. I hadn't time. I knew you all would have to have some supper. Now, do you want Bluebell to sleep with you?"

      "Heavens no! Do you think I could be bothered that way, me, in my condition? She'll sleep all right by herself. She's not used to being petted, not since I've been sick, anyway. Not since the nurse left."

      Lexie gazed in compassion at the poor baby, now asleep on the floor in the dining room, tears on her cheeks and an intermittent hectic sob shaking her baby shoulders. Poor little mite, with nobody taking care of her, and already a hard, belligerent set to her little lips! What could she do for her? Obviously she was the first one to be made comfortable. The rest could wait.

      In quick thought, she reviewed the possibilities of the house. There were two folding cots in the attic. She could easily bring those down for the two older children. There were plenty of blankets, now that she had opened the big old chest in which they were packed. But there was no crib for Bluebell. The last one in the family must have been her own, and only a very valuable piece of unneeded furniture would have survived so many years. But there was a wide couch in the room that used to be her mother's. She could make a bed for the baby up there, and herself sleep in her mother's bed, if she got any chance to sleep at all in this disorganized household.

      Swiftly she went to work and soon had a comfortable place for Bluebell with chairs to guard the side so she couldn't roll off. Then she brought down the cots, an armful of sheets and blankets, and made up two beds for Angelica and Gerald.

      "What in the world are you doing there in the next room?" called Elaine. "It seems to me you might keep a little still and give me a chance to sleep. And what is the mater with those two children? They've done nothing but wrangle since you brought the baby upstairs. I should think you might amuse them a few minutes and let me get a little rest before that lawyer comes. What time did he say he would be here?"

      "There'll be no lawyer here to-night," said Lexie firmly. "And the best amusement these children can have is a little sleep. I've made up two cots here, and they'll soon be in bed. You better tell them what to do about nighties. I've got some things to attend to in the kitchen, and it's time we were all asleep. We're very tired. Angelica, go ask your mother where you can find your night things."

      Lexie hurried away to find more blankets and left her petulant sister to deal with the two sleepy children. Returning a few minutes later she found all three in tears. Elaine crying heartbrokenly into her pillow like a well-bred invalid, Angelica struggling with a resistant button in the back of her dress, which wasn't really a sewed-on button at all, but was only pinned on with a safety pin. Gerald was howling as usual.

      "I won't sleep in that old cot. I just won't, so there! I want a real bed, not an old cot!"

      Lexie, tired as she was, breezed into the room and spoke cheerfully.

      "Well, come now, we're going to play the game of go-to-bed. Who wants to be It?"

      The two young wailers stopped instantly, surveyed her for a moment, and then changed face and put on eagerness.

      "I would like to be It," said Angelica sedately, with a speculative attention that showed she was interested.

      Then Gerald sounded his trumpet.

      "That's not fair! I choose to be It! I'm the youngest, and you ought to let me be It. Isn't that so, Elaine? Mustn't they let me be It? I won't play if I can't be It!"

      Then came Elaine's sharp voice: "Certainly, Lexie. You must let Gerald have what he wants or he won't go to sleep to-night, and I shan't get any rest." But Lexie chimed right over Elaine's voice, just as if she hadn't heard her at all. Lexie said cheerfully: "Why yes, of course, you can be It next. You can't be first because you didn't choose to be as soon as I spoke. However, you can be It second, and that gives you a chance to watch the game and see if you can improve on the way Angel did it. That gives you quite an advantage, you see. Besides, there's a prize! That is, there are two prizes, and one is just as good as the other, because the winner of the second prize gets to choose whether he'll have one just like the first, or a new one. But there's one rule that makes them both alike. There positively won't be any prize at all if there is a single squeal or yell or howl. It's got to be all very quiet and gentle, because your mother is sick and needs taken care of. Now, are you ready to hear the rules?"

      "I am!" said Angelica. "I'm very quiet."

      "Me, too!" said the little boy in a subdued