“No, dying.”
He started toward the house with the speed of the wind, but Nannie stopped him.
“Don't!” she exclaimed. “Wait! Oh, I'm so excited I'm all mixed up! She's had an awful spell, but she's better now; but you mustn't startle her. Something's the matter with her heart. It was beating like a sledge-hammer—an awful spell.”
“Oh, if she dies, who'll take care of me? What shall I do?”
And he wrung his weak little hands.
“She won't die, I guess, if we take good care of her. Oh, it's awful to have anything of this kind happen when you're out in the country miles from a doctor.”
“And I have been crazy enough to rent a cottage in the Adirondacks!”
Nannie looked at him solemnly and said:
“Oh!”
“I'll let it stand idle! Hilda might die up there! I never thought of such a thing, she looks so well. And I might be taken worse,” he gasped as one who suddenly realized a still more awful possibility. “It would never do for us to go up there.”