The Girls at Mount Morris Part 22

"Yes, yes, what now? Did you feast too high yesterday?"

"I don't know. I feel sick all over. First I'm all of a shiver and then so hot and my head aches."

"Well, we must inquire into it. Yes, you are flushed and getting excited. I think it is a feverish cold and some indigestion. We'll soon fix that all right. Luckily I brought my medicine chest along," and he laughed.

"Doctor, you don't think--are there any more cases of scarlet fever?"

and her voice was tremulous.

"Scarlet fever! Don't get any such nonsense in your curly pate. No, there's not another case and the little girl is recovering rapidly. Why you've not been even exposed to it and yours is just a cold. Now, alternate with these and I'll be in again this afternoon. But, I'd stay in bed and rest."

She slipped into a soft white wrapper, and Katy came in to straighten up her room.

"You were out late last night, Miss Zay and you've caught a cold."

"But, I so rarely have a cold."

"It sounds in your voice. Keep wrapped up good and warm. There's nothing like heat to drive out those pernickety colds and I wish you'd drink some hot water."

"I'll see by and by."

She turned her hot throbbing temple over on the pillow. If only she could shut out the sight and the smell of the clairvoyant's room, and that boy grasping for breath. It must have been something awful for them both to die almost together and be shut up at once in their coffins; and then a horror seized her. She had always been so well and joyous. Oh, what if she should die? It would kill her mother. Girls were more to their mothers; business called so many of the boys away.

She began to cry. The doctor and her father went down stairs. She thought her mother would come in and tried to calm the sort of hysterical mood. What _were_ they talking about so long? Was she worse than the doctor had admitted? She heard her father's voice rise as if in a pa.s.sion which his visitor seemed trying to subdue. Oh, what _had_ happened?

Her mother entered the room very pale and with frightened eyes.

"Oh, Zay," she cried, dropping on the side of the bed, "have you any idea what your father and Doctor Kendricks are quarreling about? Your father is not easily excited--he used to be very quick in temper but he has grown so gentle and considerate. But it is something that rouses him to white heat. We have always been such dear friends since that time of the great sorrow, and it is not about the boys, I know. Oh, Zay, what is the matter? You look ill--you must have a fever, your eyes show it."

"The doctor called it a feverish cold. He is coming again this afternoon." She was half listening to the tumult in the library, and she shook as if in an ague.

"Oh, there they go again. Why--they are going out," and she went to the hall to call to her husband but the door was flung to as if in a pa.s.sion. Then someone entered and ran lightly upstairs.

"Mother, Zay, what is the row about? Father looks as if he--but he never _does_ drink and they are going to Mrs. Barrington's."

Zay buried her face in her hands and began to sob.

"Oh, mother, what is it? Has Vin met with some accident? And we were so happy yesterday! Do you remember the old story of the G.o.ds being jealous of the happiness of mortals? There was nothing to wish for."

"I do not know what it is, but it has excited your father desperately and I am afraid Zay is going to be ill."

"My dear Zay--I should not have kept you out so late last night. We called at the Norton's and had a little dance. Don't you need the doctor--"

"He was in. He is coming this afternoon. Oh, my head aches--"

"And you look fit to drop, mother. Let me call the nurse."

Freida gently impelled Mrs. Crawford to her own room and laid her on the lounge, making pa.s.ses over her brow and chafing her cold hands.

"Now, lie still and get tranquil, and I will see to the young lady."

"I would like to put you in a hot bath with plenty of salt, and then give you a good rub. Why, you have gone all to pieces, as you Americans say."

Zaidee made no demur. Willard went and read aloud to his mother. The girl was bathed and rubbed and rolled in a blanket. She felt real drowsy, but the thought haunted her--what if Louie Howe had been taken ill with scarlet fever and they had sent word to Mrs. Barrington? Then Louie must have confessed and the three would be implicated. No wonder her father was angry!

She tossed around for awhile but, in spite, of her mental excitement she fell asleep. The luncheon hour pa.s.sed; no one wanted to eat. Then Major Crawford let himself in with his latchkey. He was very pale now.

"Oh, is there bad news?" asked Willard.

"It depends on--how your mother takes it. Such a strange story--I can hardly credit it myself. Do not let us be interrupted unless I have to summon someone," and he pa.s.sed on his way upstairs.

CHAPTER XI

STANDING UP TO THE MARK

Lilian Boyd bathed her mother's face and hands as usual and prepared her breakfast. Her eyes were brighter, her voice stronger, but the girl noticed that her face seemed a little swollen and the lines about her mouth had lost their flexibility.

"You are surely better. You have more appet.i.te," yet the tone was not hopeful.

"Oh, my dear, it is nearer the end, and it is best. You will do better without me, and what if you should find someone--a father to be proud of you? Such things have happened, and I may have kept you out of something that was your right. Oh, will G.o.d forgive me?"

Lilian caught the thin hand and pressed it to her lips.

"Mother, you must not worry about this. Suppose my own mother was a widow like you going to a new home to earn her living. Why, I might have been put in some Children's Asylum. And I have had many comforts and a love willing to make sacrifices. I have been a dreamy girl building air castles for the future, but I would have worked hard to make them real.

I see now how much is needed and I am not afraid----"

"Oh, if I could think you had lost nothing through my selfish love----"

"But it was your friend who sent us here. And you are not sorry we came?"

"Oh, my child, it was truly G.o.d's providence. Mrs. Barrington has been so good. She will help you to attain your best aims. Since we have been here I have realized the difference between us that I only felt vaguely before. You belong to these people. You have their ways and it is not all education, either. This is why I feel your people could not have been in the common walks of life."

She paused, exhausted.

"Now, you must not talk any more but try to sleep. Shall I read to you?"

"No, not now. Oh, Lilian, you will not tire of me? You will not leave me? It cannot be long----"

"No, no, and this will be my home. Let that comfort you."

Lilian took up some embroidery. Mrs. Barrington had merely looked in to inquire. How still the house seemed, and she was in a highly nervous mood. What if Major Crawford should not believe the story? Well, Lilian Boyd should never know how near she had come to being a heroine of romance, and she should achieve some of her desires.

Mrs. Boyd drowsed. Yes, it was really the providence of G.o.d that she should be removed. She would always have the things she most desired, which she, Mrs. Boyd could not have given her in the pretty home Lilian had been planning. She had been happy with her lover, then her husband.

But, Lilian would shrink from the kiss of the grimy man fresh from his hard work, and after his brief ablutions, sitting down to supper in his shirt sleeves and then lighting his pipe and pushing his baby up and down the front walk, jesting and laughing with the neighbors. There were blocks of them, most of them happy women, too, except when the babies came too fast or died out of their arms. And a few games of cards in the evening, a play now and then merry enough to keep one laughing. No, it would never have done for Lilian.

And she would feel out of place in the life to which the girl aspired.