WAIFE.—“DO you think so: you have children of your own, sir?—of her age, too?—Eh! eh!”
MR. HARTOPP.—“Yes; I know all about children,—better, I think, than Mrs. H. does. What is the complaint?”
WAIFE.—“The doctor says it is low fever.”
MR. HARTOPP.—“Caused by nervous excitement, perhaps.”
WAIFE (looking up).—“Yes: that’s what he says,—nervous excitement.”
MR. HARTOPP.—“Clever sensitive children, subjected precociously to emulation and emotion, are always liable to such maladies. My third girl, Anna Maria, fell, into a low fever, caused by nervous excitement in trying for school prizes.”
WATFE.—“Did she die of it, sir?”
MR. HARTOPP (shuddering).—“Die! no! I removed her from school, set her to take care of the poultry, forbade all French exercises, made her take English exercises instead, and ride on a donkey. She’s quite another thing now, cheeks as red as an apple, and as firm as a cricket-ball.”
WAIFE.—“I will keep poultry; I will buy a donkey. Oh, sir! you don’t think she will go to heaven yet, and leave me here?”
MR. HARTOPP.—“Not if you give her rest and quiet. But no excitement, no exhibitions.”