"I tell you to let me alone. You're real mean, Seabrooke."

"So he is," said Mrs. Moffat, "and I wish the physician would come. We'dsee if he'd have this sick kid put about this way, Mr. Seabrooke. Itell you I have the care of him now, and I'll not have him plaguedthis way."

But Seabrooke was gone before she was half through with this speech,and poor Charlie was left to take his coffee in such peace as hemight with the dread hanging over him of being reported as atell-tale. Mrs. Moffat's sympathy and her almost abuse of Seabrookedid him little good; he was somewhat sensitive to praise or blame, andcould not bear the thought of incurring the ill-will of any one ofthe kids.

CHAPTER XIII.