IV.
“Katrine,” said madame, “go and call Julie. Why, here it’s seven o’clock, and she not up yet! I never knew her to lie abed like this before. Tell her she must come down right away and dress the baby.”
Katrine came back in a few minutes, looking frightened.
“I calls von, dwo, dree dimes. She vill not hear. Den I goes oop der shtep und calls von more dime. She vill not ondershtand. She shtare mit de eyes vide—und see notting! Den she schream like murter.”
“Why, mercy on us, Dolf!” exclaimed madame, glancing across the breakfast-table at her husband, “what if the child’s sick! some fever or other!—something catching!—and these children!—she ought to be got out of the house immediately!... St. Mary’s Hospital! Yes, that’s the place. She’s Catholic, I believe. Katrine!—no, wait! perhaps it isn’t anything serious, after all. We must find out first. Dolf, what if you leave word for Dr. Smith to call round as you go down street? No, stay!” in an undertone, “don’t send him. Get some one that doesn’t go in our set—some stranger. Being up in the attic so, it might get out that we didn’t treat her well. You know how absurdly people will talk, sometimes. Can’t you think of some one else we can call in?”
“Well, I d-o-n’-t know. Let me see. Why, yes, there’s that young fellow who has stuck up his shingle a few doors off from the office. Foreigner, I believe. Hasn’t any too much custom, should judge. Might get him.”
“A foreigner. Oh, yes; that will do very well.”
In half an hour the young physician rang the door-bell. He was shown up to the attic by Katrine. As he mounted the stairs, a pitiful little wail came floating down: