At that time Jane said nothing of her adventure to me, though afterwards I learned every detail of it from her and Mrs. Smith. She did not even tell me that she had visited the Smiths’ cottage until one morning, about eight days afterwards, when some blundering servant informed us at breakfast that the baby Smith was dead of the smallpox in the hospital, and that the other child was dangerously ill. I was shocked beyond measure, for this brought the thing home, the people lived almost at my gates. Now I remembered that I had seen the red-headed tramp catch the child Tottie in his arms. Doubtless she introduced the infection, though, strangely enough, her little sister developed the disease before her.
“Jane,” I said when the servant had left, “did you hear about the Smith baby?”
“Yes, father,” she answered languidly, “I knew that it had smallpox a week ago.”
“Then why did you not tell me, and how did you know?”
“I didn’t tell you, dear, because the mere mention of smallpox always upsets you so much, especially just now with all this election worry going on; and I knew it because I was at the Smiths’ cottage and nursing the baby when the doctor came in and said it was smallpox.”
“You were nursing the baby!” I almost screamed as I sprang from my seat. “Great heavens, girl; why, you will infect the whole place.”
“That was what Ernest—Dr. Merchison—seemed to think. He wanted to vaccinate me.”
“Oh, and did you let him?”
“How can you ask me such a question, father, remembering what you have always taught me? I said——” and with omissions she told me the gist of what had passed between them.
“I didn’t mean that,” I answered when she had done. “I thought that perhaps under the influence of shock——Well, as usual, you showed your wisdom, for how can one poison kill another poison?” and, unable to bear it any longer, making some excuse, I rose and left the room.