Chapter 5

It was a particularly warm July evening, but a faint breeze from the west stirred the leaves of the Crimson Rambler that climbed over the front veranda at Five Oaks, and brought the first relief from the scorching heat. The great stone lions loomed out of the shadows and caught the moonlight full on their shaggy heads. To the doctor, sitting alone on the veranda steps, they seemed almost alive, and he smiled at the thought that came to him.

“So you think you, too, are guarding her,” he chuckled quietly. “Pray, and are you also her ‘Lawfull Protectur’?”

A light step sounded on the floor behind him, and he sprang to his feet.

“She’s asleep,” said Mrs. Kendall softly. “She dropped asleep almost as soon as she touched the pillow. Dear child!”

“Yes, children are apt—— Amy, dearest!” broke off the doctor, sharply, “you are crying!”

“No, no, it is nothing,” assured Mrs. Kendall, as the doctor led her to a chair. “It is always this way, only to-night it was a—a little more heart-breaking than usual.”

“‘Always this way’! ‘Heart-breaking’! Why, Amy!”

Mrs. Kendall smiled, then raised her hand to brush away a tear.

“You don’t understand,” she murmured. “It’s the bedtime prayer—Margaret’s;” then, at the doctor’s amazed frown, she added: “The dear child goes over her whole day, bit by bit, and asks forgiveness for countless misdemeanors, and it nearly breaks my heart, for it shows how many times I have said ‘don’t’ to the poor little thing since morning. And as if that were not piteous enough, she must needs ask the dear Father to tell her how to handle her fork, and how to sit, walk, and talk so’s to please mother. Harry, what shall I do?”