“Do as I bid you,” said Mrs Greenly, impatiently. “You’ll be ill with those pains in your ankles again. And you have a weary week before you, or I’m mistaken.”
“What is it?” asked Christie, in alarm.
“It may be little, after all; but little Harry seems far from well, and his mother is naturally anxious. At any rate, I’m going to call for the doctor this afternoon, and if it should prove that he has taken the fever, why, I must stay for a week, and you have the prospect of a longer confinement in the attic-nursery.”
It was too true. Little Harry was very ill—much worse than his sister had been at first. The doctor looked very grave when he saw him that afternoon, and positively directed that the other children should be kept away from the room. But Christie was not sent with them to the attic.
Having caught a glimpse of her passing the door, Harry could not be pacified till he found himself in her arms; and not even his mother could beguile him from her through all that long afternoon. He was very feverish, and seemed to suffer much, poor little fellow. Sometimes she soothed his restlessness by singing to him in a low voice, or by telling him the tales that had amused him many a time during the long winter. Sometimes she walked about with him in her arms; but she was not able to do this very long, and so she sat on a low chair, rocking him gently in her arms. The other children were down-stairs with Nelly. Mrs Greenly had gone out to make arrangements for a longer stay; and poor Mrs Lee, anxious and unhappy, went in and out of the nursery, unable to quiet herself or to take the rest she so much needed.
It was nearly dark when the doctor came in again, and the little boy had fallen into an uneasy slumber. The doctor started slightly when he saw Christie, and said, rather hastily—
“I thought I told you to keep away?”
The child stirred and murmured as the light was brought in, and Christie hushed him softly; but she made no reply. Mrs Lee spoke for her:
“But he was so restless, doctor, and seemed so uncomfortable after you went away; and we could do nothing to quiet him till Christie took him. He is very fond of her.”
The doctor laid his hand on the hot forehead of the little patient, but his eye was on Christie.