"Yes, when I get you snug in the bed, and make you some nice tea. What shall it be,—pennyroyal?"
"And a little feverfew."
Hal kissed the cold, trembling lips, and went about his preparations. The water was soon hot; and he put a little mustard in the pail with it, carrying it to the bedside in the other room, and leading poor Granny thither.
The place was steaming presently with the fragrance of pennyroyal. Hal poured it off into a cool bowl, and gave Granny a good drink, then tucked her in the bed, and spread the shawl over her; but still she cried in her pitiful voice,—
"I'm so cold, Hal!"
After the rigor of the chill began to abate, a raging fever set in, and Granny's mind wandered a little. Then Hal was rather alarmed. Granny had never been down sick a day in her life, although she was not so very robust.
"Dot, darling, you must run for Dr. Meade," Hal said, as the child came home from school. "Granny is very ill, I am afraid."
Dr. Meade was away, and did not come until eight in the evening.
"I fear it is going to be a run of fever, Hal," he began gravely. "At her time of life too! But we'll do the best we can. There is considerable fever about."