Flandershadlefthersewingonthetable.Therewereherlargereelsofwhitecottonandhersteelspectaclesherneedle-caseherbrownwoolwoundroundanoldpostcard.TherewerethebulrushesandtheStrandmagazinesandthelinoleumsandyfromtheboys'boots.Adaddy-long-legsshotfromcornertocornerandhitthelampglobe.Thewindblewstraightdashesofrainacrossthewindow,whichflashedsilverastheypassedthroughthelight.Asingleleaftappedhurriedly,persistently,upontheglass.Therewasahurricaneoutatsea.
Archercouldnotsleep.
Mrs.Flandersstoopedoverhim."Thinkofthefairies,"saidBettyFlanders."Thinkofthelovely,lovelybirdssettlingdownontheirnests.Nowshutyoureyesandseetheoldmotherbirdwithaworminherbeak.Nowturnandshutyoureyes,"shemurmured,"andshutyoureyes."
Thelodging-houseseemedfullofgurglingandrushingthecisternoverflowingwaterbubblingandsqueakingandrunningalongthepipesandstreamingdownthewindows.
"What'sallthatwaterrushingin?"murmuredArcher.
"It'sonlythebathwaterrunningaway,"saidMrs.Flanders.
Somethingsnappedoutofdoors.
"Isay,won'tthatsteamersink?"saidArcher,openinghiseyes.
"Ofcourseitwon't,"saidMrs.Flanders."TheCaptain'sinbedlongago.Shutyoureyes,andthinkofthefairies,fastasleep,undertheflowers."
"Ithoughthe'dnevergetoff—suchahurricane,"shewhisperedtoRebecca,whowasbendingoveraspirit-lampinthesmallroomnextdoor.Thewindrushedoutside,butthesmallflameofthespirit-lampburntquietly,shadedfromthecotbyabookstoodonedge.
"Didhetakehisbottlewell?"Mrs.Flanderswhispered,andRebeccanoddedandwenttothecotandturneddownthequilt,andMrs.Flandersbentoverandlookedanxiouslyatthebaby,asleep,butfrowning.Thewindowshook,andRebeccastolelikeacatandwedgedit.
Thetwowomenmurmuredoverthespirit-lamp,plottingtheeternalconspiracyofhushandcleanbottleswhilethewindragedandgaveasuddenwrenchatthecheapfastenings.
Bothlookedroundatthecot.Theirlipswerepursed.Mrs.Flanderscrossedovertothecot.
"Asleep?"whisperedRebecca,lookingatthecot.
Mrs.Flandersnodded.
"Good-night,Rebecca,"Mrs.Flandersmurmured,and