MOONSTONEagain，intheyear1909。TheMetho—

distsaregivinganice—creamsociableinthegroveaboutthenewcourt—house。Itisawarmsummernightoffullmoon。Thepaperlanternswhichhangamongthetreesarefoolishtoys，onlydimming，inlittleluridcircles，thegreatsoftnessofthelunarlightthatfloodstheblueheavensandthehighplateau。Totheeastthesandhillsshinewhiteasofold，buttheempireofthesandisgrad—

uallydiminishing。Thegrassgrowsthickeroverthedunesthanitusedto，andthestreetsofthetownareharderandfirmerthantheyweretwenty—fiveyearsago。Theoldin—

habitantswilltellyouthatsandstormsareinfrequentnow，thatthewindblowslesspersistentlyinthespringandplaysamildertune。Cultivationhasmodifiedthesoilandtheclimate，asitmodifieshumanlife。

ThepeopleseatedaboutunderthecottonwoodsaremuchsmarterthantheMethodistsweusedtoknow。TheinteriorofthenewMethodistChurchlookslikeatheater，withaslopingfloor，andasthecongregationproudlysay，"operachairs。"Thematronswhoattendtoservingtherefreshmentsto—nightlookyoungerfortheiryearsthandidthewomenofMrs。Kronborg’stime，andthechildrenalllooklikecitychildren。Thelittleboyswear"BusterBrowns"andthelittlegirlsRussianblouses。Thecoun—

trychild，inmade—oversandcut—downs，seemstohavevanishedfromthefaceoftheearth。

Atoneofthetables，withherDutch—cuttwinboys，sitsafair—haired，dimpledmatronwhowasonceLilyFisher。Herhusbandispresidentofthenewbank，andshe"goesEastforhersummers，"apracticewhichcauses<p484>

envyanddiscontentamongherneighbors。Thetwinsarewell—behavedchildren，biddable，meek，neatabouttheirclothes，andalwaysmindfuloftheproprietiestheyhavelearnedatsummerhotels。Whiletheyareeatingtheirice—

creamandtryingnottotwistthespoonintheirmouths，alittleshriekoflaughterbreaksfromanadjacenttable。

Thetwinslookup。Theresitsasprylittleoldspinsterwhomtheyknowwell。Shehasalongchin，alongnose，andsheisdressedlikeayounggirl，withapinksashandalacegardenhatwithpinkrosebuds。Sheissurroundedbyacrowdofboys，——looseandlanky，shortandthick，——

whoarejokingwithherroughly，butnotunkindly。

"Mamma，"oneofthetwinscomesoutinashrilltreble，"whyisTillieKronborgalwaystalkingaboutathousanddollars？"

Theboys，hearingthisquestion，breakintoaroaroflaughter，thewomentitterbehindtheirpapernapkins，andevenfromTilliethereisalittleshriekofapprecia—

tion。Theobservingchild’sremarkhadmadeeveryonesuddenlyrealizethatTillieneverstoppedtalkingaboutthatparticularsumofmoney。Inthespring，whenshewenttobuyearlystrawberries，andwastoldthattheywerethirtycentsabox，shewassuretoremindthegrocerthatthoughhernamewasKronborgshedidn’tgetathousanddollarsanight。Intheautumn，whenshewenttobuyhercoalforthewinter，sheexpressedamazementatthepricequotedher，andtoldthedealerhemusthavegothermixedupwithherniecetothinkshecouldpaysuchasum。WhenshewasmakingherChristmaspresents，sheneverfailedtoaskthewomenwhocameintohershopwhatyouCOULDmakeforanybodywhogotathousanddollarsanight。WhentheDenverpapersan—

nouncedthatTheaKronborghadmarriedFrederickOtten—

burg，theheadoftheBrewers’Trust，MoonstonepeopleexpectedthatTillie’svain—gloriousnesswouldtakean—

otherform。ButTilliehadhopedthatTheawouldmarry<p485>

atitle，andshedidnotboastmuchaboutOttenburg，——

atleastnotuntilafterhermemorabletriptoKansasCitytohearTheasing。

TillieisthelastKronborgleftinMoonstone。Shelivesaloneinalittlehousewithagreenyard，andkeepsafancy—

workandmillinerystore。Herbusinessmethodsarein—

formal，andshewouldnevercomeoutevenattheendoftheyear，ifshedidnotreceiveadraftforagoodroundsumfromhernieceatChristmastime。ThearrivalofthisdraftalwaysrenewsthediscussionastowhatTheawoulddoforherauntifshereallydidtherightthing。MostoftheMoonstonepeoplethinkTheaoughttotakeTillietoNewYorkandkeepherasacompanion。WhiletheyarefeelingsorryforTilliebecauseshedoesnotliveatthePlaza，Tillieistryingnottohurttheirfeelingsbyshow—

ingtooplainlyhowmuchsherealizesthesuperiorityofherposition。ShetriestobemodestwhenshecomplainstothepostmasterthatherNewYorkpaperismorethanthreedayslate。Itmeansenough，surely，onthefaceofit，thatsheistheonlypersoninMoonstonewhotakesaNewYorkpaperorwhohasanyreasonfortakingone。A

foolishyounggirl，Tillielivedinthesplendidsorrowsof"Wanda"and"Strathmore"；afoolisholdgirl，shelivesinherniece’striumphs。Assheoftensays，shejustmissedgoingonthestageherself。

Thatnightafterthesociable，asTillietrippedhomewithacrowdofnoisyboysandgirls，shewasperhapsashadetroubled。Thetwin’squestionratherlingeredinherears。Didshe，perhaps，insisttoomuchonthatthousanddollars？Surely，peopledidn’tforaminutethinkitwasthemoneyshecaredabout？Asforthat，Tillietossedherhead，shedidn’tcarearap。Theymustunderstandthatthismoneywasdifferent。

Whenthelaughinglittlegroupthatbroughtherhomehadgoneweavingdownthesidewalkthroughtheleafyshadowsandhaddisappeared，Tilliebroughtoutarocking<p486>

chairandsatdownonherporch。Onglorious，softsummernightslikethis，whenthemoonisopulentandfull，thedaysubmergedandforgotten，shelovestosittherebehindherrose—vineandletherfancywanderwhereitwill。IfyouchancedtobepassingdownthatMoonstonestreetandsawthatalertwhitefigurerockingtherebehindthescreenofrosesandlingeringlateintothenight，youmightfeelsorryforher，andhowmistakenyouwouldbe！Tillielivesinalittlemagicworld，fullofsecretsatisfactions。

TheaKronborghasgivenmuchnoblepleasuretoaworldthatneedsallitcanget，buttonoindividualhasshegivenmorethantoherqueeroldauntinMoonstone。ThelegendofKronborg，theartist，fillsTillie’slife；shefeelsrichandexaltedinit。Whatdelightfulthingshappeninhermindasshesitsthererocking！Shegoesbacktothoseearlydaysofsandandsun，whenTheawasachildandTilliewasherself，soitseemstoher，"young。"WhensheusedtohurrytochurchtohearMr。Kronborg’swon—

derfulsermons，andwhenTheausedtostandupbytheorganofabrightSundaymorningandsing"Come，YeDisconsolate。"OrshethinksaboutthatwonderfultimewhentheMetropolitanOperaCompanysangaweek’sengagementinKansasCity，andTheasentforherandhadherstaywithherattheCoatesHouseandgotoeveryperformanceatConventionHall。ThealetTilliegothroughhercostumetrunksandtryonherwigsandjewels。AndthekindnessofMr。Ottenburg！WhenTheadinedinherownroom，hewentdowntodinnerwithTillie，andneverlookedboredorabsent—mindedwhenshechattered。HetookhertothehallthefirsttimeTheasangthere，andsatintheboxwithherandhelpedherthrough"Lohengrin。"Afterthefirstact，whenTillieturnedtearfuleyestohimandburstout，"Idon’tcare，shealwaysseemedgrandlikethat，evenwhenshewasagirl。IexpectI’mcrazy，butshejustseemstomefullofallthemoldtimes！"——Ottenburgwassosympathetic<p487>

andpattedherhandandsaid，"Butthat’sjustwhatsheis，fulloftheoldtimes，andyouareawisewomantoseeit。"Yes，hesaidthattoher。TillieoftenwonderedhowshehadbeenabletobearitwhenTheacamedownthestairsintheweddingrobeembroideredinsilver，withatrainsolongittooksixwomentocarryit。

Tilliehadlivedfifty—oddyearsforthatweek，butshegotit，andnomiraclewasevermoremiraculousthanthat。

Whensheusedtobeworkinginthefieldsonherfather’sMinnesotafarm，shecouldn’thelpbelievingthatshewouldsomedayhavetodowiththe"wonderful，"thoughherchancesforithadthenlookedsoslender。

Themorningafterthesociable，Tillie，curledupinbed，wasrousedbytherattleofthemilkcartdownthestreet。

Thenaneighborboycamedownthesidewalkoutsideherwindow，singing"CaseyJones"asifhehadn’tacareintheworld。BythistimeTilliewaswideawake。Thetwin’squestion，andthesubsequentlaughter，camebackwithafainttwinge。Tillieknewshewasshort—sightedaboutfacts，butthistime——Why，therewereherscrap—

books，fullofnewspaperandmagazinearticlesaboutThea，andhalf—tonecuts，snap—shotsofheronlandandsea，andphotographsofherinallherparts。There，inherparlor，wasthephonographthathadcomefromMr。OttenburglastJune，onThea’sbirthday；shehadonlytogointhereandturniton，andletTheaspeakforherself。TilliefinishedbrushingherwhitehairandlaughedasshegaveitasmartturnandbroughtitintoherusualFrenchtwist。IfMoon—

stonedoubted，shehadevidenceenough：inblackandwhite，infiguresandphotographs，evidenceinhairlinesonmetaldisks。Foronewhohadsooftenseentwoandtwoasmakingsix，whohadsooftenstretchedapoint，addedatouch，inthegoodgameoftryingtomaketheworldbrighterthanitis，therewaspositiveblissinhavingsuchdeepfoundationsofsupport。SheneednevertrembleinsecretlestshemightsometimestretchapointinThea’s<p488>

favor。——Oh，thecomfort，toasoultoozealous，ofhavingatlastarosesoreditcouldnotbefurtherpainted，alilysotrulyauriferousthatnoamountofgildingcouldexceedthefact！

Tilliehurriedfromherbedroom，threwopenthedoorsandwindows，andletthemorningbreezeblowthroughherlittlehouse。

Intwominutesacobfirewasroaringinherkitchenstove，infiveshehadsetthetable。AtherhouseholdworkTilliewasalwaysburstingoutwithshrillsnatchesofsong，andassuddenlystopping，rightinthemiddleofaphrase，asifshehadbeenstruckdumb。Sheemergeduponthebackporchwithoneofthesebursts，andbentdowntogetherbutterandcreamoutoftheice—box。Thecatwaspurringonthebenchandthemorning—glorieswerethrust—

ingtheirpurpletrumpetsinthroughthelattice—workinafriendlyway。TheyremindedTilliethatwhileshewaswaitingforthecoffeetoboilshecouldgetsomeflowersforherbreakfasttable。Shelookedoutuncertainlyatabushofsweet—briarthatgrewattheedgeofheryard，offacrossthelonggrassandthetomatovines。Thefrontporch，tobesure，wasdrippingwithcrimsonramblersthatoughttobecutforthegoodofthevines；butnevertheroseinthehandforTillie！Shecaughtupthekitchenshearsandoffshedashedthroughgrassanddrenchingdew。

Snip，snip；theshort—stemmedsweet—briars，salmon—pinkandgolden—hearted，withtheiruniqueandinimitablewoodyperfume，fellintoherapron。

Aftersheputtheeggsandtoastonthetable，TillietooklastSunday’sNewYorkpaperfromtherackbesidethecupboardandsatdown，withitforcompany。IntheSundaypapertherewasalwaysapageaboutsingers，eveninsummer，andthatweekthemusicalpagebeganwithasympatheticaccountofMadameKronborg’sfirstper—

formanceofISOLDEinLondon。Attheendofthenotice，therewasashortparagraphaboutherhavingsungforthe<p489>

KingatBuckinghamPalaceandhavingbeenpresentedwithajewelbyHisMajesty。

SingingfortheKing；butGoodness！shewasalwaysdoingthingslikethat！Tillietossedherhead。Allthroughbreakfastshekeptstickinghersharpnosedownintotheglassofsweet—briar，withtheoldincrediblelightnessofheart，likeachild’sballoontuggingatitsstring。Shehadalwaysinsisted，againstallevidence，thatlifewasfulloffairytales，anditwas！Shehadbeenfeelingalittledown，perhaps，andTheahadansweredher，fromsofar。Fromacommonperson，now，ifyouweretroubled，youmightgetaletter。ButTheaalmostneverwroteletters。Sheansweredeveryone，friendsandfoesalike，inoneway，herownway，heronlyway。OncemoreTilliehastore—

mindherselfthatitisalltrue，andisnotsomethingshehas"madeup。"Likeallromancers，sheisalittleterrifiedatseeingoneofherwildestconceitsadmittedbythehard—

headedworld。Ifourdreamcomestrue，wearealmostafraidtobelieveit；forthatisthebestofallgoodfortune，andnothingbettercanhappentoanyofus。

WhenthepeopleonSylvesterStreettireofTillie’sstories，shegoesovertotheeastpartoftown，whereherlegendsarealwayswelcome。ThehumblerpeopleofMoonstonestilllivethere。Thesamelittlehousessitunderthecottonwoods；themensmoketheirpipesinthefrontdoorways，andthewomendotheirwashinginthebackyard。TheolderwomenrememberThea，andhowsheusedtocomekickingherexpresswagonalongtheside—

walk，steeringbythetongueandholdingThorinherlap。

Notmuchhappensinthatpartoftown，andthepeoplehavelongmemories。AboygrewupononeofthosestreetswhowenttoOmahaandbuiltupagreatbusiness，andisnowveryrich。MoonstonepeoplealwaysspeakofhimandTheatogether，asexamplesofMoonstoneenter—

prise。Theydo，however，talkoftenerofThea。Avoicehasevenawiderappealthanafortune。Itistheonegiftthat<p490>

allcreatureswouldpossessiftheycould。DrearyMaggieEvans，deadnearlytwentyyears，isstillrememberedbe—

causeTheasangatherfuneral"aftershehadstudiedinChicago。"

Howevermuchtheymaysmileather，theoldinhabi—

tantswouldmissTillie。Herstoriesgivethemsomethingtotalkaboutandtoconjectureabout，cutoffastheyarefromtherestlesscurrentsoftheworld。ThemanynakedlittlesandbarswhichliebetweenVeniceandthemain—

land，intheseeminglystagnantwaterofthelagoons，aremadehabitableandwholesomeonlybecause，everynight，afootandahalfoftidecreepsinfromtheseaandwindsitsfreshbrineupthroughallthatnetworkofshiningwater—

ways。So，intoallthelittlesettlementsofquietpeople，tidingsofwhattheirboysandgirlsaredoingintheworldbringrealrefreshment；bringtotheold，memories，andtotheyoung，dreams。

THEEND

THESONGOFTHELARK

byWILLACATHER

PARTI

FRIENDSOFCHILDHOOD

I

Dr。HowardArchiehadjustcomeupfromagameofpoolwiththeJewishclothierandtwotravel—

ingmenwhohappenedtobestayingovernightinMoon—

stone。HisofficeswereintheDukeBlock，overthedrugstore。Larry，thedoctor’sman，hadlittheoverheadlightinthewaiting—roomandthedoublestudent’slamponthedeskinthestudy。Theisinglasssidesofthehard—coalburnerwereaglow，andtheairinthestudywassohotthatashecameinthedoctoropenedthedoorintohislittleoperating—room，wheretherewasnostove。Thewaiting—

roomwascarpetedandstifflyfurnished，somethinglikeacountryparlor。Thestudyhadworn，unpaintedfloors，buttherewasalookofwintercomfortaboutit。Thedoctor’sflat—topdeskwaslargeandwellmade；thepaperswereinorderlypiles，underglassweights。Behindthestoveawidebookcase，withdoubleglassdoors，reachedfromthefloortotheceiling。Itwasfilledwithmedicalbooksofeverythicknessandcolor。Onthetopshelfstoodalongrowofthirtyorfortyvolumes，boundallalikeindarkmottledboardcovers，withimitationleatherbacks。

AsthedoctorinNewEnglandvillagesisproverbiallyold，sothedoctorinsmallColoradotownstwenty—fiveyearsagowasgenerallyyoung。Dr。Archiewasbarelythirty。Hewastall，withmassiveshoulderswhichheheldstiffly，andalarge，well—shapedhead。Hewasadistin—

guished—lookingman，forthatpartoftheworld，atleast。

<p4>

Therewassomethingindividualinthewayinwhichhisreddish—brownhair，partedcleanlyattheside，bushedoverhishighforehead。Hisnosewasstraightandthick，andhiseyeswereintelligent。Heworeacurly，reddishmustacheandanimperial，cuttrimly，whichmadehimlookalittlelikethepicturesofNapoleonIII。Hishandswerelargeandwellkept，butruggedlyformed，andthebackswereshadedwithcrinklyreddishhair。Heworeabluesuitofwoolly，wide—waledserge；thetravelingmenhadknownataglancethatitwasmadebyaDenvertailor。Thedoctorwasal—

wayswelldressed。

Dr。Archieturnedupthestudent’slampandsatdownintheswivelchairbeforehisdesk。Hesatuneasily，beatingatattooonhiskneeswithhisfingers，andlookedabouthimasifhewerebored。Heglancedathiswatch，thenabsentlytookfromhispocketabunchofsmallkeys，selectedoneandlookedatit。Acontemptuoussmile，barelypercepti—

ble，playedonhislips，buthiseyesremainedmeditative。

Behindthedoorthatledintothehall，underhisbuffalo—

skindriving—coat，wasalockedcupboard。Thisthedoctoropenedmechanically，kickingasideapileofmuddyover—

shoes。Inside，ontheshelves，werewhiskeyglassesanddecanters，lemons，sugar，andbitters。Hearingastepintheempty，echoinghallwithout，thedoctorclosedthecup—

boardagain，snappingtheYalelock。Thedoorofthewaiting—roomopened，amanenteredandcameonintotheconsulting—room。

"Good—evening，Mr。Kronborg，"saidthedoctorcare—

lessly。"Sitdown。"

Hisvisitorwasatall，looselybuiltman，withathinbrownbeard，streakedwithgray。Heworeafrockcoat，abroad—brimmedblackhat，awhitelawnnecktie，andsteel—

rimmedspectacles。Altogethertherewasapretentiousandimportantairabouthim，asheliftedtheskirtsofhiscoatandsatdown。

"Good—evening，doctor。Canyousteparoundtothe<p5>

housewithme？IthinkMrs。Kronborgwillneedyouthisevening。"Thiswassaidwithprofoundgravityand，curi—

ouslyenough，withaslightembarrassment。

"Anyhurry？"thedoctoraskedoverhisshoulderashewentintohisoperating—room。

Mr。Kronborgcoughedbehindhishand，andcontractedhisbrows。Hisfacethreatenedateverymomenttobreakintoasmileoffoolishexcitement。Hecontrolleditonlybycallinguponhishabitualpulpitmanner。"Well，Ithinkitwouldbeaswelltogoimmediately。Mrs。Kronborgwillbemorecomfortableifyouarethere。Shehasbeensufferingforsometime。"

Thedoctorcamebackandthrewablackbaguponhisdesk。Hewrotesomeinstructionsforhismanonapre—

scriptionpadandthendrewonhisovercoat。"Allready，"

heannounced，puttingouthislamp。Mr。Kronborgroseandtheytrampedthroughtheemptyhallanddownthestairwaytothestreet。Thedrugstorebelowwasdark，andthesaloonnextdoorwasjustclosing。EveryotherlightonMainStreetwasout。

Oneithersideoftheroadandattheouteredgeoftheboardsidewalk，thesnowhadbeenshoveledintobreast—

works。Thetownlookedsmallandblack，flatteneddowninthesnow，muffledandallbutextinguished。Overheadthestarsshonegloriously。Itwasimpossiblenottonoticethem。TheairwassoclearthatthewhitesandhillstotheeastofMoonstonegleamedsoftly。FollowingtheReverendMr。Kronborgalongthenarrowwalk，pastthelittledark，sleepinghouses，thedoctorlookedupattheflashingnightandwhistledsoftly。Itdidseemthatpeoplewerestupiderthantheyneedbe；asifonanightlikethisthereoughttobesomethingbettertodothantosleepninehours，ortoassistMrs。Kronborginfunctionswhichshecouldhaveperformedsoadmirablyunaided。HewishedhehadgonedowntoDenvertohearFayTempletonsing"See—Saw。"

Thenherememberedthathehadapersonalinterestinthis<p6>

family，afterall。Theyturnedintoanotherstreetandsawbeforethemlightedwindows；alowstory—and—a—halfhouse，withawingbuiltonattherightandakitchenadditionattheback，everythingalittleontheslant——roofs，windows，anddoors。Astheyapproachedthegate，PeterKron—

borg’spacegrewbrisker。Hisnervous，ministerialcoughannoyedthedoctor。"Exactlyasifheweregoingtogiveoutatext，"hethought。Hedrewoffhisgloveandfeltinhisvestpocket。"Haveatroche，Kronborg，"hesaid，producingsome。"Sentmeforsamples。Verygoodforaroughthroat。"

"Ah，thankyou，thankyou。Iwasinsomethingofahurry。Ineglectedtoputonmyovershoes。Hereweare，doctor。"Kronborgopenedhisfrontdoor——seemedde—

lightedtobeathomeagain。

Thefronthallwasdarkandcold；thehatrackwashungwithanastonishingnumberofchildren’shatsandcapsandcloaks。Theywereevenpiledonthetablebeneaththehatrack。Underthetablewasaheapofrubbersandover—

shoes。Whilethedoctorhunguphiscoatandhat，PeterKronborgopenedthedoorintotheliving—room。Aglareoflightgreetedthem，andarushofhot，staleair，smellingofwarmingflannels。

Atthreeo’clockinthemorningDr。Archiewasintheparlorputtingonhiscuffsandcoat——therewasnosparebedroominthathouse。PeterKronborg’sseventhchild，aboy，wasbeingsoothedandcossetedbyhisaunt，Mrs。

Kronborgwasasleep，andthedoctorwasgoinghome。ButhewantedfirsttospeaktoKronborg，who，coatlessandfluttery，waspouringcoalintothekitchenstove。Asthedoctorcrossedthedining—roomhepausedandlistened。

Fromoneofthewingrooms，offtotheleft，heheardrapid，distressedbreathing。Hewenttothekitchendoor。

"Oneofthechildrensickinthere？"heasked，noddingtowardthepartition。

<p7>

Kronborghungupthestove—lifteranddustedhisfingers。

"ItmustbeThea。Imeanttoaskyoutolookather。Shehasacroupycold。Butinmyexcitement——Mrs。Kronborgisdoingfinely，eh，doctor？Notmanyofyourpatientswithsuchaconstitution，Iexpect。"

"Oh，yes。She’safinemother。"Thedoctortookupthelampfromthekitchentableandunceremoniouslywentintothewingroom。Twochubbylittleboyswereasleepinadoublebed，withthecoverlidsovertheirnosesandtheirfeetdrawnup。Inasinglebed，nexttotheirs，layalittlegirlofeleven，wideawake，twoyellowbraidsstickinguponthepillowbehindher。Herfacewasscarletandhereyeswereblazing。

Thedoctorshutthedoorbehindhim。"Feelprettysick，Thea？"heaskedashetookouthisthermometer。"Whydidn’tyoucallsomebody？"

Shelookedathimwithgreedyaffection。"Ithoughtyouwerehere，"shespokebetweenquickbreaths。"Thereisanewbaby，isn’tthere？Which？"

"Which？"repeatedthedoctor。

"Brotherorsister？"

Hesmiledandsatdownontheedgeofthebed。"Bro—

ther，"hesaid，takingherhand。"Open。"

"Good。Brothersarebetter，"shemurmuredasheputtheglasstubeunderhertongue。

"Now，bestill，Iwanttocount。"Dr。Archiereachedforherhandandtookouthiswatch。Whenheputherhandbackunderthequilthewentovertooneofthewin—

dows——theywerebothtightshut——andlifteditalittleway。Hereachedupandranhishandalongthecold，un—

paperedwall。"Keepunderthecovers；I’llcomebacktoyouinamoment，"hesaid，bendingovertheglasslampwithhisthermometer。Hewinkedatherfromthedoorbeforeheshutit。

PeterKronborgwassittinginhiswife’sroom，holdingthebundlewhichcontainedhisson。Hisairofcheerful<p8>

importance，hisbeardandglasses，evenhisshirt—sleeves，annoyedthedoctor。HebeckonedKronborgintotheliv—

ing—roomandsaidsternly：——

"You’vegotaverysickchildinthere。Whydidn’tyoucallmebefore？It’spneumonia，andshemusthavebeensickforseveraldays。Putthebabydownsomewhere，please，andhelpmemakeupthebed—loungehereintheparlor。She’sgottobeinawarmroom，andshe’sgottobequiet。Youmustkeeptheotherchildrenout。Here，thisthingopensup，Isee，"swingingbackthetopofthecar—

petlounge。"Wecanlifthermattressandcarryherinjustassheis。Idon’twanttodisturbhermorethanisnecessary。"

Kronborgwasallconcernimmediately。Thetwomentookupthemattressandcarriedthesickchildintotheparlor。

【推荐阅读】幽幽深宫，醒来一梦似千年，重生于下堂妃身躯中的她，将如何手刃仇人? 点击阅读