"Well, never mind about her now," interrupted Margaret, a slight touch of impatience in her manner. "Please, Robert, tell me exactly what Dr. Rumsey ordered for you."
"Nothing very alarming," he replied; "the doctor thinks my nerves want tone. No doubt they do, although I feel wonderfully better this morning. He said something about my leaving England for a time and taking a sea voyage. I believe he intends to call round this evening to talk over the scheme. Now, little man, are you ready for your walk?"
"Yes," said the child. He stamped his sturdy feet with impatience. Awdrey took his hand and the two went off in the direction of the Serpentine. Mrs. Everett and Margaret followed slowly in the background.
Awdrey remained out for some time with the boy. The day, which had begun by being mild and spring-like, suddenly changed its character. The wind blew strongly from the north—soon it rose to a gale. Piles of black clouds came up over the horizon and covered the sky, then heavy sleet showers poured down with biting intensity. Awdrey and the child were quite in the open when they were caught by one of these, and before they could reach any shelter they were wet through. They hurried into the first hansom they met, but not before the mischief was done. Awdrey took a chill, and before the evening was over he was shivering violently, huddled up close to the fire. The boy, whose lungs were his weak point, seemed, however, to have escaped without any serious result—he went to bed in his usual high spirits, but his mother thought his pretty baby voice sounded a little hoarse. Early the next morning the nurse called her up; the child had been disturbed in the night by the hoarseness and a croupy sensation in his throat; his eyes were now very bright and he was feverish. The nurse said she did not like the look of the little fellow; he seemed to find it difficult to breathe, and he was altogether very unlike himself.
"I'll send a messenger immediately for Dr. Rumsey," said Margaret.
She returned to her bedroom and awoke her husband, who was in a heavy sleep. At Margaret's first words he started up keen and interested.
"What are you saying, Maggie? The boy—little Arthur—ill?"
"Yes, he seems very ill; I do not like his look at all," she replied. "It is I know, very early, but I think I'll send a messenger round at once to ask Dr. Rumsey to call."
"We ought not to lose a minute," said Awdrey. "I'll go for him myself."
"You!" she exclaimed in surprise. "But do you feel well enough?"