“I told you you’d catch it from Mrs. Van Reypen,” scolded Nan. “You had no business to go there and expose yourself.”
“But I had to go when she sent for me,” said Patty.
“What did she want of you? you never told me.”
“Well, for one thing, she thinks she’s going to die, and she wants to leave me a hundred thousand dollars in her will.”
“A hundred thousand! Patty, you must be crazy.”
“Well, it isn’t all for me, only half.” And then Patty told about the plan for the Children’s Home, but she said nothing about the promise she had given.
Nan was greatly excited over the bequest. “But,” she said, “I don’t believe Mrs. Van is going to die. She’s better today. I just telephoned.”
“I hope she won’t die,” said Patty fervently. “I don’t want her money, and if she gets well she can run that Home project herself, and I’ll willingly help. Oh, Nan, I do feel horrid.”
Grip has the reputation of making people feel horrid. The doctor came and sent Patty to bed, and for several days she had a high fever, which was aggravated by her mental worry over the promise she had made to Mrs. Van Reypen.