“Yes, mother.”
“Send Jem for the doctor—quick!”
The boy did not wait to be sent, but snatched up his cap and darted off. His sister ran upstairs.
“What is it, mother? Is he worse?”
The baby was still lying quietly on Mrs. Kayll’s lap—not flushed now, but extremely pale. Madge drew near and spoke to him; but though he opened his eyes he did not seem to see her, but gazed out with a curious blank stare.
“Oh, mother!” cried Madge, clasping her hands, “I don’t believe he knows me. Baby, it’s Madge. Baby!”
Mrs. Kayll’s forehead wrinkled itself into upright lines.
“It’s very strange,” she said slowly. “I am getting rather frightened, though I thought at first this morning that he was better.—No, go away, dears,” for Edie and Bessie were peering in at the door. “I am going to keep him very quiet for the present.”
“Mayn’t we come and kiss him, mother?” asked Bessie imploringly.
“Not yet. Not till the doctor has seen him.”