“No, Massa Joe. No, suh. She dastn’t,” said the negro, quickly.
Peter lifted the little girl as tenderly as a woman, and carried her off to rest. She did not rouse at all, but her head dropped heavily on the pillow as if her neck were too slender to support it, and her breath came with a strange whistling sound.
The old negro laid his hand upon her temples and found them hot. Though he knew little about children, he did know that cold water was good in such a case, so dipped a towel and folded it across her head. The application seemed to soothe her, for her features became more natural, and, after a time, as she appeared to be resting well enough, he stole cautiously from the room and went about his business. Though his interest was now wholly with Josephine, he dared not neglect his duties below stairs, and knew that, as usual when he was ill, Mr. Smith would expect the best of dinners that evening. It had been so stormy early in the day that he had not attended to his marketing, and must now make haste to repair the delay. Apollo was apt to lay the blame on the butler, if things failed to turn out as desired, and there was need for haste if the roast beef were to be secured of the cut preferred.
“I’ll just fetch a posy for the little lady, I will. If market’s over they’s plenty them flower-stores, and maybe it’ll make her forget all her lonesomeness. Poor little missy! What the Lord done sent to bless this great, empty house. Nothing mustn’t happen to hurt her, nothing mustn’t. No, suh,” reflected the good old man.
When Peter returned from his marketing Josephine was still asleep. He did not disturb her, though he listened anxiously to her hoarse breathing and carefully replaced the damp towel which her restlessness had tossed aside. He also laid the bunch of carnations on the coverlet beside her and cautiously retreated to the hall, where he kept as close a watch upon her as he could find time to give.
“Dinner is served, Massa Joe,” he announced, when its hour arrived.
“Is Miss Josephine ready?” asked the host.
“She done sleepin’ mighty comf’table, suh,” protested Peter.
“Seems to me I’ve read somewhere that children should sleep half the time. Is that so, Peter?”
“Certainly, suh, I reckon likely ’tis,” replied the other, willing to agree.