Standing in the cold little bedroom, looking down at the thin white face, the doctor was at his wit's end to know what to advise the poor mother to do. But at last he said, as cheerfully as he could, "I will send her some medicine as soon as I get back, and she had better stay in bed for a day or two until she gets stronger."
Then he beckoned Mrs. Winn to follow him downstairs, and he led the way to the parlour; for Tom and the children were in the kitchen, the little ones quarrelling as to who should stand in front of the handful of fire.
"Now, Mrs. Winn, what is to be done?" said the doctor, facing round and closing the door when the widow came in. She looked at him as if she did not understand what he meant. "You know it is not medicine that your little daughter needs, but food, and plenty of it. Now, you have made a brave struggle to get work here, I know, but Fairfield is not the best place in the world for a stranger, and I am afraid you have had a hard time of it; but now the question is, what are you going to do? Have you no friends who would be willing to help you a little, if it was only for a year or two, until Tom was able to earn some money? I hear he has won a scholarship."
The widow felt choked. All that the doctor said was true enough she knew, but she did not like to hear it put into such plain language.
"You do not think Elsie is very ill?" she managed to ask at last.
"Very ill!" repeated the doctor. "Why, you can see for yourself that she cannot live long if there is not a change in her condition very soon. Think now, Mrs. Winn, whether you have no friend or relative to whom you can apply. I tell you the girl's life depends upon it. She has borne her share of the struggle as long as she can, and borne it bravely. But her power of endurance is exhausted, for she is but a child after all; and so, if you do not wish to see her die of starvation, you should at once seek help from friends or relatives. Surely you or your husband must have somebody who would be willing to do something for you."
"I have a sister," gasped Mrs. Winn, "but I have not seen or heard from her for years. Her husband is a very proud man, and I offended both of them when I married."
"Well, that is over and done with now, and you are left a widow with these children dependent upon you. Surely, if your sister knew how you were placed, she would deem it her duty to do what she could to help you."
"Perhaps she would. I have never thought of asking her, for I never thought I should come to such a pass as this," and poor Mrs. Winn burst into tears, and sobbed hysterically.
"There, there, you must forgive me if I seemed to speak harshly. You must bear up, you know, or else we shall have the little maid fretting, and that would never do."