There was no trace of the gout left in the gentleman’s movements as he preceded his neighbor to Josephine’s room, where the child lay gasping, feverish, and clutching at her own throat in an agony of terror.
One glance, and Mrs. Merriman’s shawl was tossed aside, and she had lifted the little sufferer in her arms, observing:
“Not even undressed! How long has she been like this?”
“For several hours, Peter says, but growing steadily worse. I’ve sent for the doctor, but he hasn’t come. He”—
She interrupted him with:
“Send for another. The nearest possible. It’s croup. Short and quick, usually. Michael, run in for Mary. Now, Peter, heat some blankets. Find me her night-clothes. Warm that bed. A foot-tub of hot water. Any oil in the house? Epicac? Any other household remedies?”
“There’s the medicine for the gout, madam,” suggested Mr. Smith.
“Oh, bother the gout. That’s nothing. This is—serious. There, Mary, lend a hand. Michael, run for Doctor Wilson. Hurry. If you can’t find him, then the next one. There are seven of them around this square, perched like vultures, seeking whom they may devour. As a rule, I ignore the whole crowd, but I’m thinking of this little one’s mother now. Hurry, lad,” directed Mrs. Merriman.
Mr. Smith stood silent, helpless, and admiring. This was a gentlewoman of the old school, such as he remembered his own mother to have been, who was not afraid to use her own hands in ministering to the suffering and who wasted no time in questions. Every movement of her wrinkled but still firm fingers meant some solace to the little child, whose brown eyes roamed from one to another with a silent, pitiful appeal. In a twinkling, it seemed, Josephine was undressed, reclothed in soft, warm garments, her chest anointed with the relaxing oil, and a swallow of hot milk forced between her lips. Then Michael was dispatched to the nearest drug store and brought back a dose of the old-fashioned remedy Mrs. Merriman had used for her own little children. But she had hardly time to administer it before one of the physicians summoned had appeared, and to him she promptly resigned the direction of affairs. His first order was that Mr. Smith should go below to his own comfortable library and remain quiet, adding:
“I’ll report as soon as your child is better, sir.”