"I didn't get them on purpose!"
Then she covered her eyes with her hands and fell to weeping, remembering mother Martha's tenderness whenever she had "come down" with any childish disease. Remembering, too, how father John had teased her about being such a "catcher." "Such a sympathetic child nobody must have chicken pox, scarlatina, or even mumps, but you must share them! Well, a good thing to get through all your childish complaints in your childhood, and have done with them!" Almost she could hear his dear voice saying those very words and see the tender smile that belied their jest. Oh! to feel herself lifted once more in his strong arms! and to know that, no matter what was amiss with her, he never shrank from fondling or comforting her.
This woman did shrink, yet how could it be from fear of infection to herself? Besides, she made Jim stay wholly outside in the shed; and thus the acquaintance begun during the night was suddenly suspended. Still, though there was real consternation in her mind, the farm mistress was not unkind. It may be that she felt the shortest way to a recovery was, also, the least expensive one to herself; and immediately she went to work upon her patient, after one more question:
"Know anybody had 'em?"
"Yes. Lots. Half my class," answered Dorothy, defiantly.
"Hmm. Yes. Measles," commented Mrs. Stott, as she put on her sunbonnet and went out to rummage in her sage bed for fresh sprigs with which to make a tea. This she forced Dorothy to drink, scalding hot; next she covered her up with the heavy quilt, fastened the windows down, and ordered Tige to take up his post beside the bed. Then she commanded: "Stay in that bed. Get out, take cold, die. Not on my hands."
"Suppose she doesn't care if I do die on the hands of somebody else!" reflected the patient, but said nothing aloud. Yet she watched the woman do a strange thing—go to the door at the foot of the attic stairs, lock it, and put the key in her pocket. Then she went out of the cottage and took Jim with her.
Left alone with the dog, Dorothy C. had many sad thoughts; but soon bodily discomfort banished her more serious anxieties and she became wholly absorbed in efforts to find some spot on that hard couch where she might rest.
"I'll get up! I can't bear this heat!" she cried, at last, and tossed the heavy covers from her. But no sooner had she done so than a heavy chill succeeded and she crept back again, shivering. Thus passed the morning and nobody came near; but at noon when the farm woman re-entered the kitchen Dorothy's piteous plea was for "Water! Water!" and she had become oblivious to almost all else save the terrible thirst.
With the ignorance of her class the now really alarmed Mrs. Stott refused the comforting drink, only to see her charge sink back in a state of utter collapse; and, thereafter, for several days, the child realized little that went on about her. On the few occasions when she did rouse, she was so weakly patient that even the hard-natured woman who nursed her felt her own heart softened to a sincere pity. Curiously, too, Tiger became devoted to her. He would stand beside the bed and lick the wan hand that lay on the quilt, as if trying to express his sympathy; and his black, cool nose was grateful in her hot palm.