"Hunger," replied Mr. Emerson, and he and Ethel Brown went down stairs at once in search of food, while Mrs. Emerson and Ethel Blue managed to undress their patient and put her into a fresh nightdress and bathe her face and hands. By the time they had done this and were undressing the baby, Ethel Brown and Mrs. Emerson's cook were at the door with jellied broth, milk, gruel and a cooling drink.
Ethel Blue fed the woman, spoonful by spoonful, and Ethel Brown gave the baby alternate spoonfuls of gruel and milk.
"Sleepy now?" asked Mrs. Emerson when the dark head sank back on the pillow. "Take a nap, then. See, the baby is right here where you can lay your hand on her. We'll look in now and then and just as soon as you wake up you must take some more food."
"Must!" repeated the girl, for she was hardly older than Miss Merriam they saw when her hair was pushed back from her face. "Must! 'Tis glad I'll be to be doing it!" and a ghost of a smile fluttered her lips.
Outside of the bedroom door Mrs. Emerson asked for an explanation and the others for her advice.
"I don't see how we can tell what we can do until we pull her through this trouble and find out what the poor soul wants to do herself."
"She said she came out from New York to look for work in the country."
"Then we must find her work in the country. But the first thing for us to attend to is to get her poor body into such a condition that she can work. She's a sweet looking young woman. I'm glad you brought her home, Father," and between Mr. and Mrs. Emerson there passed a smile of such understanding as makes beautiful the lives of people long and happily married.