Instantly everything was in commotion. The nearest neighbor was sent for, and restoratives applied with such skill as domestic experience could suggest, and one of the boys dispatched in all haste for the doctor, with orders to bring Nabby at once to take her mother's place.
The fainting fit proved of short duration, but was followed by a violent chill and a rise of fever, and when the doctor arrived he reported a congestion of the lungs threatening the gravest results.
Forthwith the household was to be organized for sickness. A fire was kindled in the best bed-room and the patient laid there; Mis' Persis was sent for and installed as nurse; Nabby became housekeeper, and to superficial view the usual order reigned. Zeph went forth to the labors of the field, struggling with a sort of new terror; there was an evil threatening his house, against the very thought and suggestion of which he fought with all his being. His wife could not, should not, ought not to be sick,—and as to dying, that was not to be thought of! What could he do without her? What could any of them do without her? During the morning's work that was the problem that he kept turning and turning in his mind—what life would be without her. Yet, when Abner, who was working beside him, paused over his hoe and stood apparently lost in thought, he snapped a harsh question at him with a crack like the sound of a lash.
"What ye doin' there?"
Abner started, looked confused and resumed his work, only saying, "I was thinking about Mother."
"Nonsense! Don't make a fool of yourself. Mother'll come all right."
"The doctor said"—said Abner.
"Don't tell me nothin' what the doctor said; I don't want to hear on't," said Zeph, in a high voice; and the two hoes worked on in silence for a while, till finally Zeph broke out again.
"Wal! what did the doctor say? Out with it; as good say it 's think it. What did the doctor say? Why don't you speak?"
"He said she was a very sick woman," answered Abner.