"No; he will hardly do that yet, and should not be allowed to talk even if he could. When the change comes there will be fever, and perhaps delirium."
I passed them and entered the sick-room.
Mrs. Harris sat by the bed. Louise Barnard was not there.
"We have sent Louise home," Mrs. Harris whispered, seeing me glance about inquiringly. "The doctor told her that if she insisted upon remaining she would soon be sick herself, and unable to help us at all. That frightened her a little. The poor child is really worn out, with her father's sickness and death, her mother's poor health, and now this," nodding toward the bed.
"Have you had any visitors?"
"Oh, yes. But we knew that the house must be kept quiet, and Mr. Harris has received the most of them out in the yard. Dr. Hess says it will be best to admit none but personal friends."
"Dr. Hess is very sensible."
Going back to join the two gentlemen, I saw that Dr. Hess was hastening toward the gate with considerable alacrity, and that a pony phæton had just halted there.
Swinging the gate wide open, the doctor assisted the occupant to alight.