The secret of the Mansion

a mumbled, "Thanks for everything, Honey," and lay there crying quietly until she heard her father come in the door.
     

A Runaway • 6
     
    TRIXIE SLEPT LATE the next morning. She had hardly closed her eyes all night, worrying about Bobby and listening to her father and mother as they took turns sitting with him. When she woke up, the first thing she did was to tiptoe to his room to see how he was.
    Mrs. Belden smiled at her from the rocking chair beside Bobby’s bunk. "He’s fine, Trixie," she said. "He had very little fever last night, and there’s almost no swelling in his foot. Dr. Ferris stopped by early this morning and said he’s out of all danger, now. We won’t have to worry about him."
    Bobby looked feverish, and there were dark lines under his eyes. "Go way," he told Trixie in a weak, fretful voice. "Mummy’s reading to me."
    "You stay with him, Moms," Trixie cried impulsively. "I’ll take care of the house and the chickens and everything."
    "Dad cooked breakfast," Mrs. Belden said with a laugh. "A whole pound of bacon, I gather, and I imagine he left the dishes for you. But he’s bringing a practical nurse out from the village to help me. He said explicitly that he wanted you to go ahead and have your riding lesson." Trixie flushed, remembering how her father had praised her the evening before. "Just give the downstairs a lick and a promise," her mother finished, "and then run along. Honey is here. She has been waiting for you since nine." Trixie found Honey in the bright red and white kitchen. "I arrived just as the doctor was leaving," she told Trixie. "I was awfully glad to hear that Bobby’s going to be all right." She pirouetted around the room. "How do you like my dungarees? Miss Trask drove to White Plains for them yesterday afternoon."
    "Great!" Trixie gulped down a big glass of cold orange juice and spread butter on slices of bread for a bacon sandwich. "I’d better make several of these," she said. "You-know-who is probably ravenous this morning."
    Honey shook her head. "No, he’s all taken care of. I went up there when your mother said you were still asleep. I smuggled some dry cereal and hard-boiled eggs out of our kitchen, but he’d already eaten. At least, he was just starting. He’d shot a rabbit and was i cooking it over an outdoor spit. He gave me a piece; and, Trixie, I never tasted anything so delicious." Trixie grinned. "You and your birdlike appetite!"
    "I’m hungry all the time now," Honey admitted, smiling. "I had eggs and cereal for breakfast, rabbit with Jim, and that bacon smelled so good I had a sandwich while I was waiting for you." She sobered suddenly. "But I had an awful dream last night. The worst nightmare I ever had. I’ll tell you about it on the way over to our place. Regan’s waiting to give you a lesson in posting."
    "Tell me now," Trixie said, bringing her dishes to the piled-up sink. "I’ve got to do some straightening up around here before I can leave for the stables with you."
    "I’ll dry." Honey slipped a dish towel off the rack.
    "I learned to do dishes and make beds at camp, so I’ll help."
    "Wonderful," Trixie cried enthusiastically. And, with Honey’s assistance, it took them less than half an hour to tidy up the house. While they swept and dusted, Honey related her dream.
    "I was walking through the woods," she said with a reminiscent shiver. "It was so real I still can’t believe I was only dreaming. Anyway, I was walking along toward the Miser’s Mansion and it was all quiet and creepy the way it is in the thick part of the woods, when suddenly I heard something rustling along the path ahead of me. It was a great big black snake with a thick white stripe down its back, and it was coming toward me as fast as it could. I just stood there, too scared to move or scream or anything. You know how it is in dreams—you’re just rooted to the spot."
    Trixie nodded sympathetically. "And then what?"
    "And then, just as it reached my feet, I woke up," Honey continued. "I was dripping wet with cold perspiration, and I guess I must have cried out without knowing it, because Miss Trask was bending over me, wiping my face with a damp washcloth and speaking softly."
    Trixie wondered why it was always Miss Trask, and never Honey’s mother, who came when Honey was frightened, but she said nothing.
    "I told her about the dream," Honey went on, "and she said it was perfectly natural for me to have a nightmare like that after what happened to Bobby