“You do know your business, Andrews,” was Feather’s amiable comment.
“Thank you, ma’am,” from Andrews. “Infectious things are easy managed if they’re taken away quick. But the doctor said you must be spoken to because perhaps a change was needed.”
“You could take her to Ramsgate or somewhere bracing.” said Feather. “But what did he say?”
“He seemed puzzled, ma’am. That’s what struck me. When I told him about her not eating—and lying awake crying all night—to judge from her looks in the morning—and getting thin and pale—he examined her very careful and he looked queer and he said, ‘This child hasn’t had a shock of any kind, has she? This looks like what we should call shock—if she were older’.”
Feather laughed.
“How could a baby like that have a shock?”
“That’s what I thought myself, ma’am,” answered Andrews. “A child that’s had her hours regular and is fed and bathed and sleeps by the clock, and goes out and plays by herself in the Gardens, well watched over, hasn’t any chance to get shocks. I told him so and he sat still and watched her quite curious, and then he said very slow: ‘Sometimes little children are a good deal shaken up by a fall when they are playing. Do you remember any chance fall when she cried a good deal?’”
“But you didn’t, of course,” said Feather.
“No, ma’am, I didn’t. I keep my eye on her pretty strict and shouldn’t encourage wild running or playing. I don’t let her play with other children. And she’s not one of those stumbling, falling children. I told him the only fall I ever knew of her having was a bit of a slip on a soft flower bed that had just been watered—to judge from the state her clothes were in. She had cried because she’s not used to such things, and I think she was frightened. But there wasn’t a scratch or a shadow of a bruise on her. Even that wouldn’t have happened if I’d been with her. It was when I was ill and my sister Anne took my place. Anne thought at first that she’d been playing with a little boy she had made friends with—but she found out that the boy hadn’t come that morning—”
“A boy!” Andrews was sharp enough to detect a new and interested note. “What boy?”