The terror lightened a little. She lay quiet a little while in Nell's arms.
Nell hoped she was falling asleep, but presently the whole small form was shaken by another desperate sob.
"It was only smoke—-and houses—" came a desolate little murmur of utter weariness.
"Try to go to sleep, darling—do try."
"I'm not cryin', Nell! Only—I—you see shiverin' and a cold is rather like cryin', isn't it?"
"Very much, but you'll be better to-morrow. You must get better quickly, because suppose our first letters from Australia were to come with you sick! And they may come any day now, sweet. And there mustn't be anyone sick here! Because how can we celebrate the occasion properly then? If the letters say that mother is quite, quite strong again—and they will, darling, I know they will!—well, what shall we do then?"
She talked on softly, gently, and after a while the Atom slept. Nell sat for some time with her on her lap, frightened to move lest she wake her, but at last she laid her gently in her bed, and the Atom still slept on.
But the next morning Nell was wakened suddenly at six o'clock. She sat up. The Atom was striving to pour some water from the bottle to the glass, and it was the two clinking together that had waked Nell. The bottle shook in the Atom's hands; Nell saw that she was shaking all over.
She slipped to the floor.
"Go back to bed, asthore, I'll give you some water."