“Then I explained to him how her father had been there and how Lita had acted, and that it must have been necessary or he would not have given it. He told me I must not give her any more of it for three days and at the end of that time he would call again.
“After he had gone I went in to see Lita and she seemed brighter than I had ever seen her. On the evening of the second day she showed real interest in things and had a good appetite. There was a faint tinge of red in her cheeks and she was almost pretty.
“She asked me who I was and what my name was.
“‘I am your nurse, and you have been very ill, but are getting better now,’ said I, ‘and my name is quite a little like yours; it is Anita.’
“I was so delighted at her apparent improvement that I determined to write her father the good news, but on second thought concluded I would not, as he had said he would come out often.
“On the third day the doctor called and was greatly pleased at his patient’s progress. ‘Just continue to give her this tonic and keep the other away from her,’ said he.
“‘I think you had better not tell her father what we have done if he calls soon; better wait a couple of weeks and surprise him.’
“Then I thought of my orders not to call in a stranger and told the doctor about it. He passed the matter by as a trifle, saying: ‘They probably feared the excitement.’
“Two weeks passed and no Mr. Leighton and no word from Dannie. I was getting desperate at Dannie’s neglect and telegraphed him. The telegram came back, so I knew it had not found him. Mr. Leighton came the same afternoon and found me a pitiful looking object. My eyes were red and swollen with weeping.
“‘What is the matter with you, little daughter?’ said he, kissing me on each cheek.