While swinging thus between despair and desperate hope, she was maintaining, at first somewhat mechanically to be sure, a conversation with her father, whom she had not seen since their early breakfast together.
“How does the fever situation seem to-night?” she asked.
“Much better,” said Doctor West. “There were fewer new cases reported to-day than any day for a week.”
“Then you are getting the epidemic under control?”
“I think we can at last say we have it thoroughly in hand. The number of new cases is daily decreasing, and the old cases are doing well. I don’t know of an epidemic of this size on record where the mortality has been so small.”
She came out of her preoccupation and breathlessly demanded:
“Tell me, how is Elsie Sherman? I could not get around to see her to-day.”
He dropped his eyes to his plate and did not answer.
“You mean she is no better?”
“She is very low.”