"They had to hold me down."
She lay back in the pillows; she gave a little excited laugh.
"Aren't persons _queer_ when they're 'lirious?"
"Sheila Pat, catch hold!"
He tilted a brown-paper parcel into her lap.
"It's a book about horses, and there're plenty of photographs in it, so
will you forgive its not being Irish? And remember that I hate being
thanked, Sheila Pat. If you thank me for it, I'll kiss you. So now you
know."
She was turning the pages with trembling fingers. He watched the
expressive face as she bent over the beautiful photographs.
"Nell," Denis poked his head round the door, "may that conceited Atom
receive another visitor? Mr. Yovil wants to see her."
"Yes, with great pleasure!" shrilled out Sheila Pat, excitedly.
She turned to Ted; she lifted up her face.
"I love it! I _love_ it!"
"You're thanking me!"
He bent and kissed her.
"I'm jealous," Mark Yovil said sadly, as he entered the room. "He isn't
half so nice as I am, Sheila Pat! You ask my mother. She's down in
Devonshire, but we could send her a wire. And you've never been his
Social Prompter, have you? Please send him away, Sheila Pat!"
"I will, anyway," Nell laughed.
Mark Yovil only stayed a few minutes. He looked at the Atom's excited
face, her bright eyes, and talked quietly to Nell. Then he went.
For a quarter of an hour Sheila Pat studied her precious book.
Then Sarah appeared with a petition from Herr Schmidt for just a "beep
at the little Miss Sheila."
He came in, laboriously tiptoeing, beaming.
"Ze poor little invalid! You are better, hein?"
Sheila Pat was very tired.
"I'm quite well, thank you," she responded, her manner exceedingly
grown-up.
"There's only one thing about her that troubles us, Herr Schmidt,"
laughed Nell. "She's so good! She takes her medicine without a
grimace! She's so meek and good I'm quite uneasy."
Sheila Pat fidgeted restlessly. She explained earnestly. "I'm not
_really_ good! I'm doin' it for--for a reason of my own."
Herr Schmidt seemed to think that exquisitely funny. He chuckled like a
great fat baby.
"Ze funny little child!" he chuckled, "ze very funny little child."
He took off his spectacles, rubbed them with a gigantic handkerchief,
and said, "Ach, I forget!" He fumbled in his coat-tail pocket; he
dragged forth a limp and very much sat upon brown-paper parcel. He eyed
it proudly.
"Ach, zat is why I zink her so nice for a bed! See, I sit on her, but
it does not matter!"
"Great Scott!" ejaculated Denis in Nell's ear.
Herr Schmidt handed the parcel to Sheila Pat. He stood watching,
beaming at her over his spectacles. Sheila Pat pulled off the paper;
she gave a little gasp. There was a tense silence.
The present was a baby doll--a rag baby doll.
Nell quavered desperately, "What a fine colour it has!" And she averted
her eyes hastily from the horrible, crimson-dabbed cheeks.
"You like her, little one?" Herr Schmidt's tone was anxious.
"Thank you," said Sheila Pat, in a subdued little voice. She stared
fixedly into the fire, her head averted from the Thing in her lap.
"Ach, I zink berhaps she does not like it?" Herr Schmidt whispered
loudly to Nell. "And I zink it so sweet!"
"She is tired. She has had too many visitors. It was so awfully kind
of you to bring it for her, Herr Schmidt. I want her to go to sleep
now."
Sweetly Nell sped his departure. When he had gone, Sheila Pat, still
with averted head, dropped her knee till the doll slid to the floor.
She looked up at Nell, outraged dignity in every feature.
"Please take the--carrion thing--away!"