The children always hailed Effie with a scream of delight; they were not a bit afraid of her, for she was the most indulgent elder sister in the world, but all the same she managed to make them obey her.
Susan was sent downstairs to get her breakfast, while Effie saw the elder ones safely through the process of dressing. She took the baby on her knee, and, removing his night-clothes, put him into his bath, and dressed him herself quickly and expeditiously. She then carried him into her mother's room.
Mrs. Staunton had spent a troubled night.
"Is that you, Effie?" she exclaimed, looking at her daughter; "and oh, there is baby—how sweet he looks! What a splendid nurse you are, my darling, and what a wonderful comfort to me! Give me my dear little man. I will take care of him while you see about breakfast."
"How are you this morning, mother?" asked Effie. "Have you had a good night?"
"Yes, pretty well. I had one or two bad dreams. I could not help thinking of poor Mrs. Watson and that heart-trouble your father spoke about. I wonder how she is this morning."
"Now, mother dear," said Effie, "you know father said you were not to dwell upon that—you must turn your thoughts away from illness of every sort. I thought we might go for a little drive in the gig this morning."
"But your father will want the gig."
"No, that's just it, he won't."
"What do you mean? Surely he will go out as early as he can to see Mrs. Watson?"