Dexie seized her hands and clapped them between her own stiff angers, which
felt like lead, they seemed so heavy, but she succeeded in rousing Elsie so
that she would talk to her.
"Let us try to sing," said Dexie at last; "perhaps it will be easier than
talking," and she began "Jesus, lover of my soul."
But before the verse was finished she became aware that she was scarcely
murmuring the words herself, while Elsie had stopped altogether.
"I'm _not_ going to sleep; so, there!" she said aloud. "I _will_ stay awake
somehow, and make Elsie, too."
She found that the effort she had made to speak aloud had aroused herself.
The drowsy feeling was dispelled, and she bent over Elsie and shook her
until she received a faint answer.
"Do you think Lancy has arrived at the house, Elsie?" she asked a few
minutes later. No answer, for Elsie's head had fallen back on the seat. She
was oblivious to all remarks.
"Dear me, this will never do! However shall I keep her awake more than a
minute at a time? What if Lancy returns and finds her stiff and cold?"
The thought was awful, and for the next few minutes there were some lively
movements under the sleigh robes; but the terror that filled Dexie's heart
gave way to a feeling of relief as Elsie sat up and reproached her friend
for being "so rough.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68