“The hospital!” exclaimed Mrs Seaton. “Is it so very serious?”
“It may become very serious unless it is attended to. No time ought to be lost. Could she go to-day, or to-morrow morning?”
Mrs Seaton looked very troubled.
“Must she go? She was brought up in the country. It seems necessary she should have fresh air. I am afraid her health would suffer from confinement. Could she not remain here? Of course, if she needs advice she must not think of going home. But could she not stay here?”
“It is very kind in you to think of such a thing, but I am afraid she will need more attention than she could possibly get at this distance from town. She will be very comfortable there. Indeed, it seems to me to be her only chance of a speedy recovery.”
“But it seems unkind to send her out of the house, now that she is ill. I can’t bear to do it,” said Mrs Seaton.
“Not at all, my dear madam. It is done every day; and very well it is that there is a place where such people can be received when they are ill.”
“But Christie is very unlike a common servant. She is such a gentle, faithful little thing; the children are so fond of her too.”
“No one knows her good qualities better than I do, after what I saw of her last winter. But really it is the very best thing that could happen to her in the circumstances. Shall I tell her? Perhaps it would be as well.”
Christie was greatly startled when they told her she must go to the hospital. Her first thought was that she could not go—that she must get home to Effie and the rest before she should grow worse. But a few words from the doctor put an end to any such plan. A little care and attention now would make her quite well again; whereas if she were to go home out of the reach of surgical skill, she might have a long and tedious season of suffering—if, indeed, she ever fully recovered. She must never think of going home now. She must not even think of waiting till she heard from her sister. That could do no possible good, and every day’s delay would only make matters worse.