"I shall nurse her myself, and we must have this landing to ourselves."
Poor Georgie was, as it were, between two fires. She was not allowed by her father to go near Ruffie, neither was she allowed to go near her sister. For two miserable days she wandered about the house alone, and then came almost triumphantly up to her father.
"I'm going to get the fever. I've got a sore throat."
He looked suspiciously at her. "Are you inventing it?"
"No, on my word and honour, it's true. May I go upstairs to Steppie and Josie?"
"Go into your room and stay there till the doctor comes," said her father sharply.
Georgie went upstairs slowly and miserably. She did not feel well, was half frightened and half excited at the thought of being ill herself, and wanted Anstice to pet and comfort her.
Her father went to Ruffie's room, fear knocking at his heart. He missed Anstice, who had wholly given up herself as sick nurse to Josie.
The very thought of his idolized boy being struck down by this infectious disease filled his mind with terror and dismay. He was relieved to find Ruffie his usual bright little self, and taking him up in his arms carried him out into the garden and deposited him in a small hammock under the tree which had been rigged up for his use and comfort.
Before another day had passed, Georgie had been put in the same room as her sister. Anstice was nursing them both. Neither of the little girls had the disease severely, but it was bad enough to make them very querulous and uncomfortable. The doctor insisted upon a nurse being sent in to help Anstice. Justin was vexed with her for devoting herself to the little girls, but nothing would induce her to act otherwise.