He lay on the bed, as still as though sleeping. But the noise above should have aroused him by this time, had her own shrill cry not done so.
Lyddy leaped to the bedside, seizing her father's shoulder with desperate clutch. She shook his frail body, and the head wagged from side to side on the pillow in so horrible a way--so lifeless and helpless--that she was smitten with terror.
Was he dead? He had never been like this before, she was positive.
She tore open his waistcoat and shirt and placed her hand upon his heart. It was beating--but, oh, how feebly!
And then she heard the flat door opened with a key--'Phemie's key. Her sister cried:
"Dear me, Lyddy! the hall is full of smoke. It isn't your stove that's smoking so, I hope? And here's Aunt Jane Hammond come to see us. I met her on the street, and these four flights of stairs have almost killed her----Why! what's happened, Lyddy?" the younger girl broke off to ask, as her sister's pale face appeared at the bedroom door.
"Everything--everything's happened at once, I guess," replied Lyddy, faintly. "Father's sick--we've got company--and the house is afire!"
Aunt Jane Hammond stalked into the meagerly furnished parlor, and looked around. It was the first time she had been to see the Bray girls since their "come down" in the world.
She was a tall, gaunt woman--their mother's half-sister, and much older than Mrs. Bray would have been had she lived. Aunt Jane, indeed, had been married herself when her father, Dr. "Polly" Phelps, had married his second wife.
"I must--say I--expected to--see some--angels sit--ting a--round--when I got up here," panted Aunt Jane, grimly, and dropping into the most comfortable chair. "Couldn't you have got a mite nearer heaven, if you'd tried, Lyddy Bray?"
"Ye-es," gasped Lyddy. "There's another story on top of this; but it's afire just now."
"Do you really mean it, Lyddy?" cried her sister. "And that's what the smoke means?"
"Well," declared their aunt, "them firemen will have to carry me out, then. I couldn't walk downstairs again right now, for no money!"
'Phemie ran to the hall door. But when she opened it a great blast of choking smoke drove in.
"Oh, oh!" she cried. "We can't escape by the stairway. What'll we do? What _shall_ we do?"