He took the three children, and left the house. He was but just in time to catch the train.
Hetty sank upon the window seat and listened, her heart wrung almost past endurance, to the sounds upstairs. Poor Flo! Had any one thought of it, the sight of Hetty, for whom she called so pitifully, would have quieted her better than anything. But Mrs. Eyre did not know that Hetty was in the house, and no one else attended to the meaning of the child's cry.
"Zelica! oh, Zelica! The big black dog has eaten Zelica! He'll kill me too! Hetty! Hetty! come back!"
"If this can't be stopped, the child will be in convulsions," said the nurse.
The doctor took a small bottle out of his pocket, saying, "I must, I suppose. I would rather have waited for Dr. Haddon."
He mixed a few drops with water, and gave the glass to Mrs. Eyre.
"Flo, you must drink this," Mrs. Eyre said softly. And Flo, having learned long ago to obey that gentle voice, checked her wild outcry and swallowed the medicine at once.
"Oh, mamma! is that you?"
"Yes, darling. Lie still; I want you to go to sleep."
"But—the big black dog."