This busy life quite suits me, now I have got used to it. And it sweetens every bit of work to think that I am doing it in humble, far-off, yet real imitation of Jesus. I am indeed really and truly happy.
MAY 14.-It is now two weeks since little Raymond was taken sick, and I have lived in the nursery all the time, though Aunty has tried to make me go out. Little Emma was taken down to-day, though she has been kept on the third floor all the time I feel dreadfully myself. But this hard, cold doctor of Aunty's is so taken up with the children that he never so much as looks at me. I have been in a perfect shiver all day, but these merciless little folks call for stories as eagerly as ever. Well, let me be a comfort to them if I can! I hate selfishness more and more, and am shocked to see how selfish I have been.
MAY 15.-I was in a burning fever all night, and my head ached, and my throat was and is very sore. If knew I was going to die I would burn up this journal first. I would not have any one see it for the world.
MAY 24.-Dr. Elliott asked me on Sunday morning a week ago if I still felt well. For answer I behaved like a goose, and burst out crying. Aunty looked more anxious than I have seen her look yet, and reproached herself for having allowed me to be with the children. She took me by one elbow, and the doctor by the other, and they marched me off to my own room, where I was put through the usual routine on such occasions, and then ordered to bed. I fell asleep immediately and slept all day. The doctor came to see me in the evening, and made a short, stiff little visit, gave me a powder, and said thought I should soon be better.
I had two such visits from him the next day, when I began to feel quite like myself again, and in spite of his grave, staid deportment, could not help letting my good spirits run away with me in a style that evidently shocked him. He says persons nursing scarlet fever often have such little attacks as mine; indeed every one of the servants have had a sore throat and headache.
MAY 25.-This morning, just as the doctor shuffled in on his big feet, it came over me how ridiculously I must have looked the day I was taken sick, being walked off between Aunty and himself, crying like a baby. I burst out laughing, and no consideration I could make to myself would stop me. I pinched myself, asked myself how I should feel if one of the children should die, and used other kindred devices all to no purpose. At last the doctor, gravity personified as he is, joined in, though not knowing in the least what he was laughing at. Then he said,
"After this, I suppose, I shall have to pronounce you convalescent."
"Oh, no!" I cried. "I am very-sick indeed."
"This looks like it, to be sure!" said Aunty.
"I suppose this will be your last visit, Dr. Elliott," I went on, "and I am glad of it. After the way I behaved the day I was taken sick, I have been ashamed to look you in the face. But I really felt dreadfully."