"Don't speak to me now!" was the impatient response. "I'm frightened almost to death."
"Jane," called out Mrs. Peasely, coming to the door, "Do run and find somebody to go for the doctor. I do wish your mother was here."
The young girl darted to the side of the bed, gave one lingering glance at the pale form lying there, and then sprang forward exclaiming, "I'll go myself; I saw him riding down the street."
Before the doctor came, Mrs. Dobbs returned from town. Mrs. Frost, under the vigorous measures of the cook, had revived from her long swoon, and was lying quiet and apparently asleep, while Helen was in her room writing a request to her mother to send for her to go home.
Jane came in and began to expostulate. "Why!" said she, "your mother gave you leave to stay all summer."
Helen burst into tears. "I wouldn't stay here when that old woman dies; no, not for the world." She shuddered as she added, "I don't like to be in the house when there are death and funerals."
"We must all die, sometime," murmured Jane, in a thoughtful tone. "But," she added after a minute, "mother doesn't think she will die at present; she says she has been subject to these faint turns ever since Jotham died; only she staid in this longer than usual."
"I heard her speak of Jotham," said Helen, growing very red. "Was he her son?"
"Yes, but I can't bear to think about him." Tears gushed to Jennie's eyes; but she put her hand on her friend's letter, and saying, "Don't send it!" left the room.