‘Nothing, thanks. I have no commissions for you.’
‘Have you spoken to Mr Courtney yet on the subject of your family?’
Lizzie started.
‘Oh, yes; and that reminds me that I have some letters I want to show you. Wait a moment Captain Norris, whilst I fetch them—’
‘Missy Liz! Missy Liz!’ piped a shrill little voice at the open door.
‘What is it, Pete?’ she asked of a negro boy, whose dusky face was anxiously peering in upon them.
‘Oh, Missy Liz, please come quick to Mammy Chloe’s baby! That’s kinder sick; taken drefful, with its eyes turned up so, and its body quite stiff like a piece of wood!’
‘Convulsions!’ exclaimed Lizzie, as she threw the packet of letters she had just taken from her desk across the table, and put her hat upon her head. ‘Captain Norris, I must go. Read those whilst I am gone.’
‘But I cannot stay till you come back, Lizzie. Each moment is precious to me. Give me five minutes more.’
‘I dare not. This is a new-born infant, and a matter of life and death. God bless you, and good-bye!’