Fayette opened the door, and was greeted by a cry of joy from young Mrs. Ford.
“O, Fayette! I’m so glad it’s you!” and there was an emphasis as, if the speaker were rather glad it was not some one else.
“I thought I’d come,” said Fayette, kissing her. “How’s aunt?”
“I think she is pretty sick,” said Sue, lowering her voice. “She’s gone to bed.”
“Have you sent Hiram for the doctor?”
“Hiram has gone. I’m all alone. Word came over from Springville, just after Carlos was here, that his father had broken his leg, and he had to go, of course.”
“But why didn’t you tell him to send Dr. Ward over?”
“Mother wouldn’t let me. You know how she hates to send for a doctor, and she thought she’d be better.”
A voice from the next room called to know who was there, and Fayette went in.
Mrs. Ford was in bed, her face drawn and pinched. A look of pain crossed her features as her niece entered. There was disappointment in her voice as she said,—