Sometimes I thought it a little strange how Maimie’s old feelings towards him had changed. Kind as he might be,—and he really did show marked kindness to her,—she clung to us, and distrusted Churton. I suppose the childish dependence on him had been once so thorough, and had received so complete a shake by his long neglect, that there was no bringing it back. “He doesn’t really care for me,” she said frequently to Cherry. “But I’m afraid he does mean to take me away from Aunt Marion.”
In the midst of all this, Ted suddenly sickened with the measles.
I did not think much of it at first, little dreaming what a long winter of nursing lay before me.
Churton at once stopped coming. He said he had never had measles, and measles at his age might be serious; also Aunt Briscoe dreaded infection, and if he came in and out of our house he might not go to hers. This was the first inkling we had of how he frequented “The Gables.” Aunt Briscoe had grown reserved in her letters of late, and rarely mentioned his name.
My husband asked Churton whether he would not think it best to take Maimie at once for a few weeks away from the infection, since she had never had the complaint. But he said, “No; it was too late. Maimie might have caught the illness already—as likely as not—and she had better stay and be nursed by us.”
It was only for Maimie’s sake that the suggestion had been made. We were glad enough to keep her.
I was quite determined, however, that she should not run needlessly into the way of infection. Measles generally is a slight enough complaint; but Maimie was delicate, and I wanted to keep her well. Maimie resisted, yet for a time she gave way, and was in quarantine.
When Ted was getting well, Bob sickened. I counted my three elder ones safe, for they had all had measles in childhood. But strange to say, Cherry took it again. She would not believe herself to be sickening for measles, and went about as usual, and had a chill, which checked the rash. For some days she was really ill.
By that time my hands were more than full, and I was getting knocked up. I still forbad Maimie to go near the invalids, though she begged and entreated, even with tears, to be allowed; and my husband thought I might yield. If she were disposed to take the infection, he believed she would take it in spite of precautions.
I held to my own plan for a day or two longer. Then one evening I was very poorly. Maimie did all she could for me, and presently, with a resolute face, she walked out of the room. When she came back, it was to say, “Aunt Marion, I have seen them.”