"It has come! as I knew it would! Two of Mrs. Hoyt's children have been taken, and, I believe, one of the waiters also! Merciful God! what will become of me?" Her teeth chattered, and she trembled from head to foot.
"Don't be alarmed, Clara! Your excessive terror is your greatest danger. If you would escape you must keep as quiet as possible."
She poured out a glass of water and made her drink it; then asked:
"Can Mrs. Hoyt get medical aid?"
"No; she has sent for every doctor in town, and not one has come."
"Then I will go down and assist her." Beulah turned toward the door, but Clara caught her dress, and said hoarsely:
"Are you mad, thus continually to put your life in jeopardy? Are you shod with immortality, that you thrust yourself into the very path of destruction?"
"I am not afraid of the fever, and therefore think I shall not take it. As long as I am able to be up I shall do all that I can to relieve the sick. Remember, Clara, nurses are not to be had now for any sum." She glided down the steps, and found the terrified mother wringing her hands helplessly over the stricken ones. The children were crying on the bed, and, with the energy which the danger demanded, Beulah speedily ordered the mustard baths, and administered the remedies she had seen prescribed on previous occasions. The fever rose rapidly, and, undaunted by thoughts of personal danger, she took her place beside the bed. It was past midnight when Dr. Asbury came; exhausted and haggard from unremitting toil and vigils, he looked several years older than when she had last seen him. He started on perceiving her perilous post, and said anxiously:
"Oh, you are rash! very rash! What would Hartwell say? What will he think when he comes?"
"Comes! Surely you have not urged him to come back now!" said she, grasping his arm convulsively.