“Not much, I am afraid,” said Prudence.
“Will she be able to come down to tea?”
“I—I fear not.”
“Then she is worse than I thought. I had better go and see her. Will you tell her I will come up presently?”
“Oh, thanks, but I don’t think it would be advisable to disturb her just now. She prefers keeping quite quiet. You see this is—is a very severe attack. I never saw her quite like this before.”
“Good gracious! You don’t say she is as ill as all that?” cried Mrs. Wilcox, whose one weakness was a frantic fear of contagious maladies. “You don’t think it can be any thing serious coming on? They say there is a lot of fever and diphtheria about. Excuse my asking, Miss Prudence, but what are her symptoms? We must take precautions in a house like this.”
“Her symptoms? Oh, her symptoms—her symptoms are rather peculiar.”
“Indeed. Head-ache? Sore throat? Pain in the back?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. I—am sure it is nothing infectious.”
“I hope not, but please tell me what does she complain of?”