Mrs. Seymour had been trying various restoratives. Now Marilla gave a long shuddering sigh, opened her eyes but closed them again.
“What beautiful long lashes she has! And such silky hair—”
“Oh, the saints be praised! I began to think she was dead! Poor darlint! ’Rilla dear—its Bridget who’d do anything in the world for you.”
Dr. Baker arrived. He entered the room, looked at Marilla, felt of her pulse, and listened to the faint heart beats. “Give her a little brandy,” he said. “Where’s Mrs. Borden? I thought the old lady—”
“Oh, she is!” interrupted Bridget, “she can’t stir her legs one bit. She’s rale poorly, now I tell you, an’ this child’s been looking after her as well as the babies.”
“That’s twice too much.” He ran lightly up the stairs to meet with a torrent of up-braidings.
“I thought I’d have to die here all alone! Where’s Marilla? I’ve rung and rung.”
“The girl has been in a dead faint. She’s worn out. And you must have a regular nurse.” 194
“Oh, dear!” Aunt Hetty began to cry, “couldn’t I have her? ’Twouldn’t be as bad as them two young ones. And I’d pay her well, too. She’s so nice and good tempered with her face full of smiles and sunshine. Oh, if she’s going to be ill what shall we all do?”
The brandy revived Marilla a little. She tried to speak but her lips felt stiff. They took her up carefully and laid her on the old lounge. The babies started to climb up over her at once, and howled fearfully when Bridget pulled them down with an ungentle shake and sat them on the floor. Then she went to answer the door bell and ushered in Miss Armitage.