She opened the door that led up to his chamber and slowly mounted the steep, narrow, yellow stairs, turning to the right into Charlie’s sanctum.  A turn to the left would have taken her to her own room.  Peeping into Charlie’s room, she saw the boy fast asleep on the bed.  Stealing softly across the bare floor and reaching the red and yellow home-braided rug before his bed, she looked down on the sleeping Charlie.  A smile parted his lips, and be murmured something unintelligible to Aunt Stanshy.  Then she laid her hand on his head, giving a little start.

“That boy took cold last night, and is a bit feverish.  I’ll let him lie here a spell longer.”

Saying this, she was about to turn away, when Charlie’s eyes opened.

“That you—­you, aunty?”

“Yes; why?”

“I thought it was a dream.  I had a dream, and thought we gave the down-townies an awful scare.”

“You did?  Was that what you were smiling at?  I mean just now.”

“I guess so.  And then I believe we were going to give three cheers.”

“Well, do you feel like getting up?”

“Y-e-s.”

He rose on his elbows, but sank back again.

“I guess, if you have no objection, aunty, I will lie a little longer.”

“I guess you had better, for you took cold last night out in the porch.  Would you like to take your breakfast in bed, and have my little table that I lend to people who are sick in bed?”

“O, yes.”

“And would you like to have a piece of toast, a little tea, and an orange?”

“O, yes.  You are the best aunty in the world.”

“Am I, dear?”

Aunt Stanshy was not very demonstrative, so that this “dear” was exceedingly precious to the warm-hearted Charlie, as was also a small hug that she gave him.  While she was preparing his breakfast Charlie lay quietly in bed, and heard the sound of the rain on the slanting roof.  To a tired boy in bed, and longing to have some excuse for absence from school, what music is sweeter than the sound of rain on the roof?  Let it be a real north-easter sweeping in from the sea, pushing along a fleet of many clouds packed with a heavy cargo of rain, and, as it advances, let this wind sound many big, hoarse trumpets all about the houses and barns, up and down the streets!  An organ in church played by Prof.  Jump-up-and-down is nothing compared with such a north-easter; Charlie heard the grand music of the wind.  By and by he heard Aunt Stanshy’s step on the stairs.  She came slowly up, up, and then Charlie saw her turning from the entry into his room, bringing the sick-table and Charlie’s breakfast She bolstered him up in bed, putting two or three fat pillows behind his back.  Then she put the little sick-table before him.  One side had been hollowed in, so that an invalid could draw it close about his body.  Charlie was now the invalid to do that thing.  What tea! what toast! what an orange!