Dorothy went quickly up to her.
"You must let me remove these things, and get you into bed at once," she said coaxingly but firmly. "Your face is scarlet, and your hands tremble. You must take some hot lemonade, and go quietly to sleep."
Jessie was quite passive under her commands, but the pain in her head did not seem to abate.
For long hours, Dorothy worked patiently with her to allay the fever, but it seemed to increase with every moment.
She wanted to arouse the household, and send for a doctor, but Jessie pleaded most pitifully.
"You are very, very ill," cried Dorothy, in agony. "I must send for some one, or you will die!"
"Hush! I want to die!" cried Jessie, in a low whisper; "that is just it; I do not want to live."
Dorothy tried to soothe her, thinking it was but the idle vagaries of a wandering mind.
Chapter XXX.
"Hush!" cried Jessie, sinking back on her pillow, and clutching frantically the hand that held hers. "You must not call any one. I want to die! I am so tired of living. I want to tell you my story, Mrs. Brown—it seems to me that I shall go wild if I do not tell some one; and you seem so sympathetic and kind. May I trust you?" she whispered, with a great tremor in her voice.