"I'm _not_!" cried the Imp. "And I'll prove it this minute. I _couldn't_ see those two other pictures because--they both had a heavy, dark silk covering of some kind stretched completely over them, frames and all! _Now_ will you believe me?" At this curious bit of information even doubting Sue had to admit that the Imp was right. CHAPTER VI IN MONSIEUR'S ROOM March 8, 1914. I thought the last entries in this journal were pretty exciting, with two accidents to tell about, but they were just nothing to what's been happening since. My arm is all right again; no trouble at all, except for a slight stiffness. So that's all about that. But _Louis_! For the first two days after his accident he seemed to be doing nicely. None of us saw him, for the doctor had ordered that he be kept very quiet. When we went to inquire, Miss Yvonne said he was better and in no pain, and that he wanted to see us all, but that he must be quiet for a while. Then, on the third day, her face was very grave. "He has fever," she said. "It is not high, but the doctor is not pleased. Louis is restless, and his foot is swollen. We are all anxious about him." I repeated her words to Father, and he said: "Poor boy! Blood-poisoning, probably. I'm sorry for him. Was that ax very rusty?" I replied that it was, for I remember that Louis remarked about it at the time and said he could do better work if the ax was cleaned and was sharper. Father shook his head and said they'd have to keep a careful watch on him now. Next day matters became worse. From then till this evening we have been frightfully anxious, and the Meadows' family and Monsieur grew almost frantic. It was blood-poisoning, and the doctor said it was so bad that he doubted if he could save Louis's foot. At that, Monsieur sent post-haste to the city for a famous surgeon, and after days of working over him Louis is to-night pronounced out of danger. When I went over this evening to get the news, Miss Yvonne cried when she told me. I cried, too, and I saw Monsieur coming downstairs, his eyes suspiciously moist. What a relief! They have had two trained nurses, and one of them will stay till Louis is much stronger. Miss Yvonne is quite worn out with work and worry, and she looks like a shadow of herself. Old Mr. Meadows appears to have grown ten years older in a week, and seems very feeble. As for Monsieur, in the few glimpses I've had of him he looks as if he hadn't had a wink of sleep for four days. As a matter of fact, I heard that he hadn't gone to bed and slept since Louis became so ill,--just napped while sitting in a chair. I haven't slept well myself, and neither has Carol. Even the Imp has been very much concerned. She continues to be awfully decent to us, but I wonder how much longer it will last. Not long, I'm pretty sure, after Louis is well again. I know her too thoroughly to be deceived into thinking she has turned over a new leaf for good!