You tell her I'm pretty near as disappointed as she's goin' to be herself, and I'd come if I could--and I _will_ come if I get a good deal better, or anything--but the way it's gettin' to look now, I kind o' feel as if I might be breaking out with something any minute." He moved away, concluding, feebly: "I guess I better crawl on home, Albert, while I'm still able to walk some.

You tell her the way it looks now I'm liable to be right sick." And the next morning he woke to the chafings of remorse, picturing a Milla somewhat restored in charm waiting hopefully at the gate, even after half-past seven, and then, as time passed and the sound of the distant horns came faintly through the darkness, going sadly to her room--perhaps weeping there.

It was a picture to wring him with shame and pity, but was followed by another which electrified him, for out of school he did not lack imagination.

What if Albert had reported his illness too vividly to Milla?
Milla was so fond! What if, in her alarm, she should come here to the house to inquire of his mother about him?
What if she told Mrs.Milholland they were "engaged"?
The next moment Ramsey was projecting a conversation between his mother and Milla in which the latter stated that she and Ramsey were soon to be married; that she regarded him as already virtually her husband, and demanded to nurse him.
In a panic he fled from the house before breakfast, going out by way of a side door, and he crossed back yards and climbed back fences to reach Albert Paxton the more swiftly.

This creature, a ladies' man almost professionally, was found exercising with an electric iron and a pair of flannel trousers in a basement laundry, by way of stirring his appetite for the morning meal.
"See here, Albert," his friend said breathlessly.