"Mercy!" cried Isabelle, "it is to be hoped she is! I have the most abject horror of fevers and that is enough to make me catch it. Fancy having one's head shorn like a convict! The very idea is appalling."
"Oh, of course if there is the slightest danger, you and Marion will have to go to Madame Castle's to board," said her mother. "It is very provoking that Evadne should have chosen to be sick just now."
"Not likely the poor girl had much choice in the matter," laughed Louis. "There are a few things, lady mother, over which the best of us have no control."
"I wish you would go up and see the child, Kate," said Judge Hildreth impatiently. "If there is the least fear of anything serious I will send the carriage at once for Doctor Russe. It is a risky business transplanting tropical flowers into our cold climate."
The kind-hearted French maid was bending over Evadne's pillow when Mrs. Hildreth entered the room. She had grown to love the quiet stranger whose courtesy made her work seem light, and it was with genuine regret that she whispered to her mistress,—"It is the feevar. I know it well. My seestar had it and died."
Evadne's eyes were closed and she took no notice of her aunt's entrance. Mrs. Hildreth spoke to her and then left the room hurriedly to summon her husband. Even her unpractised eyes showed her that her niece was very ill.
Doctor Russe shook his head gravely. "It is a serious case," he said, "and I do not know Where you will find a nurse. I never remember a spring when there was so much sickness in the city. I sent my last nurse to a patient yesterday and since then have had two applications for one. It is most unfortunate. The young lady will need constant care. She requires a person of experience."
Pompey, waiting to drive the doctor home, caught the words, spoken as he descended the steps to enter the carriage, and came forward eagerly. "If you please, Missus," he said, touching his hat, "Dyce would come. She's hed a powerful sight of 'sperience nussin' fevers in New Orleans. She'd be proper glad ter tend Miss 'Vadney."
"How is that?" questioned the busy doctor. "Oh, your wife, my good fellow? The very thing. Let her come at once."
So Dyce came, and into her sympathetic ears were poured the delirious ravings of the lonely heart which had been so suddenly torn from its genial surroundings of love and happiness and thrust into the chilling atmosphere of misunderstanding and neglect.