"She not move while you gone," she said. "She sleep all time, but I 'fraid she awful seeck, she breathe so hard."
I went lightly into the bedroom and stood looking down upon the austere old face against the pillow. It was a flushed old face now, and the eyelids twitched as if there were pain somewhere in the body. Her breathing, too, was more rapid and heavy than when I had left her, or so I fancied.
My inability to do anything for her depressed me. By slipping my hand under the blankets I had ascertained that the hot water bags were sufficiently warm. There was nothing more for me to do but to sit quietly and watch her until the physician's arrival.
I wanted to bring Dr. Pettit to her bedside before she should awaken. Then I would let him deal with her obstinate refusal to see a physician. But how I wished that Dicky would come home.
As if I had rubbed Aladdin's lamp, I heard the hall door slam, and my husband came rushing into the room.
"What is the matter with mother?" Dicky demanded, his face and voice filled with anxiety.
I sprang to him and put my hand to his lips, for he had almost shouted the words.
"Hush! She is asleep," I whispered. "Don't waken her if you can help it."
"Why isn't there a doctor here?" he demanded fiercely.
"Dr. Pettit will be here in a very few moments," I whispered rapidly. "Your mother said she would not have a physician, but she appeared so ill I did not dare to wait until your return to the studio. I telephoned you, and when Miss Draper said she did not know where to get you, I 'phoned to Dr. Pettit on my own authority."