“I regret to say that Marilla has progressed very slowly. She had quite an exhausting fever at first. She was not able to come downstairs until yesterday, and lies down several times through the day.”
“Is it possible! Why we thought—and we need her so much! Did you—” he flushed a little, “have a good physician?”
“An excellent one whose practice is mostly among children. He thought her quite worn out, but it was being overcome with the heat and she fell off the steps. It was near congestion of the brain I believe.”
“I’m awfully sorry. We were so busy just then, and my wife was worried to death. The babies had always been so good, but I can’t imagine anything being so—so dreadful as they’ve been for a week. I’ve scarcely 109 slept an hour at a time and Mrs. Borden is clear worn out. She thinks just the sight of Marilla would comfort them. We might go on keeping that Ellen, though the babies won’t take to her. I think Marilla charmed them; but they’re always been good until now. And there’s four more teeth to come through,” in a despairing sort of tone.
Miss Armitage had large sympathy and she felt really sorry for him. Yet how providential that Marilla had missed the care!
“You have had a very bad time, certainly, and it is fortunate that Marilla didn’t give out on your hands. Would you like to see her, though I think she is asleep.”
“Yes—oh yes. If we kept Ellen, don’t you think she might come down next week. The sea-bathing would no doubt strengthen her.”
“She has some heart weakness. I’m afraid she couldn’t stand the bathing.”
Then she rose and led the way up stairs.
Marilla was asleep. Mr. Borden studied her in surprise.