It did not hurt her, and she slept soundly; but when she woke in the
morning her head ached, and she wished she could stay in bed! Rosy was
still sleeping--the housemaid, who came to draw the curtains, told
her--and she was not to be wakened.
"After the fright she had, it is better to sleep it off," the servant
said, "though, for some things, it's to be hoped she won't forget it.
It should be a lesson to her. But you don't look well, Miss Bee," she
went on; "is your head aching, my dear?"
"Yes," Bee allowed, "and I can't think why, for I slept very well.
What day is it, Phoebe? Isn't it Sunday?"
"Yes, Miss Bee. It's Sunday."
"I don't think I can go to church. The organ would make my head
worse," said Bee, sitting up in bed.
"Shall I tell any one that you're not well, Miss Bee?" asked Phoebe.
"Oh no, thank you," said Bee, "I daresay it will get better when I'm
up."
It did seem a little better, but she was looking pale when Mrs.
Vincent came to the nursery to see her and Rosy, who had wakened up,
none the worse for her fright, but anxious to do all she could for
poor Bee when she found out about her sore hand and headache,
"Why did you not tell me about your hand last night, dear Bee?" Mrs.
Vincent asked.
"It didn't hurt much. It doesn't hurt much now," said Bee, "and Fraser
looked at it and saw that it was not very bad, and--and--you had had
so many things to trouble you, Aunt Lillias," she added,
affectionately.
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