The Twin Cousins Part 12

"It's ME!" said a childish voice that she thought sounded like one of the Allen children.

She ventured to open the door, and there on the steps in the darkness stood Flaxie Frizzle, bareheaded, s.h.i.+vering, and looking terribly frightened.

"Oh, Mrs. Hunter, something _orful_ has happened at our house. Oh, come quick, Mrs. Hunter!"

"Yes, yes, dear, I'll go this minute; but what is it?" said the lady, hurrying to the entry closet for her shawl.

"Auntie is crazy! She is running round and round with the tea-kettle."

Mrs. Hunter stood still with amazement.

"Who sent _you_ here?" said she. "Why don't they call the doctor?"

"I don't know. She's going to scald me to death, and I s'pose you know I'm sick," whined Flaxie, sinking down on the doormat, where the light of the lamp shone full upon her, and Mrs. Hunter saw--what she might have seen before, if she had not been so nervous--that the little girl wore a checked flannel nightie, and her feet were done up in poultices.

Of course she must have come away without any one's knowing it, that cold night, with the snow falling too! It was she that was crazy, instead of Aunt Charlotte.

"How could the child have got out of the house?" thought Mrs. Hunter.

But the question was now, how to get her back again?

"Come, Flaxie," said she, in a soothing tone, "let me wrap you up in a shawl and take you home pickaback,--there's a good girl!"

"But I don't want auntie to scald me."

"She shan't, dear. If she has got the tea-kettle, I'll take it away from her."

"Honest?" asked Flaxie, piteously.

But she forgot her terror as soon as she was mounted pickaback, and thought herself the "country cousin" taking a ride on a holder.

All this while everybody in the Allen half of the house was up and hunting for the lost child. Milly was crying bitterly; Johnny had come in from the barn, where he had pulled the hay all over; and Uncle Ben, who had just returned from his journey, was starting out on the street with a lantern.

Just then Mrs. Hunter walked in, and dropped Flaxie into Aunt Charlotte's arms, saying:

"Here, I've brought you a poor sick child."

Then there was such a commotion that Flaxie was more bewildered than ever, and at sight of Uncle Ben she screamed wildly. It was his coming home about ten minutes before that had frightened her, in the first place, by waking her from a bad dream; and she had slipped out of bed, and out of the open front door, before any one missed her.

"There! there! darling, don't cry," said Aunt Charlotte, hus.h.i.+ng her in her arms, while Mrs. Hunter heated a blanket.

"I've done something _orful_," said Flaxie in her auntie's ear. "I'm so sorry; but I stole a horse and sleigh! _Don't_ tell, auntie! I put 'em behind that door."

"Well, never mind it, dear; you didn't mean to," said Aunt Charlotte, smiling in spite of her heavy heart. Then she turned to Uncle Ben, who stood by, looking puzzled, and asked him in a whisper if he "didn't think he ought to go for the doctor"?

"Oh, by all means," said Mrs. Hunter, beginning to help him on with his overcoat.

He had hurried home in the night train, on purpose to spend Christmas day with his family, and was really too tired to take a ride of two miles in a snow-storm. But he was not thinking of that; he was thinking how dreadful it was to have his dear little niece sick away from home; and how her papa didn't like the Hilltop doctor,--and perhaps it was best to go three miles farther to the next town after Dr. Pulsifer.

"Yes, go for Dr. Pulsifer," said Aunt Charlotte, when he asked her about it; "and be as quick as you can."

Flaxie knew nothing of all this. Her cheeks burned, her eyes shone, and she kept saying there were a million lions and tigers in the bed; and where was the rat-trap?

"Do bring the rat-trap!" said she, plunging about in a fright. "Oh, you don't hear, do you? There's a woman out in the other room eating peas,--eating, and eating, and eating. Why don't you stop her? Oh, you don't hear! Johnny Allen, run for a sponge and vinegar, and put it in auntie's ears, so she can hear!"

Milly laughed at these strange speeches till she heard Nancy say to Mrs.

Hunter, "Crazy as a loon, ain't she? I'm afraid it's water on the brain."

Then Milly, who did not understand Nancy's meaning, but was appalled by the tone, ran into the pantry, and cried behind the flour-barrel.

"If Flaxie Frizzle dies, I want to die too! She's the only twin cousin I've got in the world."

In a short time, considering how far he had ridden, Uncle Ben came home, but without Dr. Pulsifer, who had gone away, and could not be there before to-morrow noon.

"I'm so disappointed," said Aunt Charlotte, looking pale and ill enough herself to be in bed. "But the poor little thing is asleep now, and perhaps she isn't so very sick after all. Do tell me if you think there's any danger of brain-fever?"

"Well, I think this," replied Uncle Ben, leaning over the bed and taking a long look at the little patient; "_I_ don't know what ails her! It may be diphtheria, and then again it may be common sore throat; but if she isn't better in the morning, we'll telegraph to her father, for a child that can turn yellow and pea-green, as she did last spring, is capable of almost anything."

"That is true," said Aunt Charlotte; "one never knows what she is going to do next." And then she looked at Flaxie, and sighed. It was wonderful what a power she had of keeping her friends in a worry, this little pink and white slip of a girl! Once she had fallen into a brook, and once into a well, beside falling sick times without number. Uncle Ben and Aunt Charlotte knew all this, but they did not happen to know that it was a very common thing for Flaxie to be crazy! It was just so with her brother Preston and her sister Ninny; they seldom had any little ailment like a bad cold without "going out of their heads," and n.o.body in the family minded it at all.

If Flaxie's mother had been at Hilltop, she would have sent Uncle Ben and Aunt Charlotte to bed; but as she was not there, and they didn't know any better, they sat up all night watching their queer little niece.

Rather a sorry "Christmas eve" all around the house,--but a beautiful Christmas morning, and not a cloud in the sky. Flaxie woke as gay as a bird, without the least recollection of the horrors she had suffered in the night from tigers and tea-kettles.

"Wish you merry Christmas!" cried she to pale Aunt Charlotte, and sprang out of bed with poultices on her feet to go after her Christmas stocking.

"Well, is this the little girl they thought was so sick," said Dr.

Pulsifer, when he arrived at noon, and found her and Milly lying on the rug, with a pair of twin dolls between them dressed just alike, and each with a fur cap on its head.

He felt Flaxie's pulse and looked at her tongue, and said he "shouldn't waste any of his nice medicine on _her_."

"But my cold isn't good at all, now honest; and my throat's a little sore--I guess," said Flaxie, drawing a long face, and feeling rather ashamed not to be sick now, when the doctor had been sent for on purpose!

"Never mind! If you don't need me, your aunt does. What do you think of yourself, you little piece of mischief, running away in the night, and frightening people so that they are sick abed Christmas day?"

All Flaxie's good time was over in a minute. _Was_ auntie sick abed up-stairs? Was that why Flaxie hadn't seen her since morning?

"Oh, mayn't I go look at her?" said she, after the doctor had left. And Uncle Ben consented, thinking she wouldn't stay a minute.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I do love you dearly," cried penitent Flaxie, climbing upon the bed and cuddling close to the white auntie. "_Did_ I make you sick? I didn't mean to; and I don't 'member anything about the tea-kettle."

"There, there, dear, don't cry."

"I oughtn't to stayed up-stairs yesterday in the cold," went on Flaxie, determined to free her mind. "That was the wickedest thing! But you were just as good as you could be, if you _did_ trim the church; and I'll never do so again!"

"Oh, hush, dear; you shake the bed."

"I'm real bad in here, in my s-o-ul!" wailed Flaxie, squeezing her eyelids together tight, and laying her hand on her stomach. "Why don't G.o.d make me beautiful inside o' my soul?"