"That is right, dear," Mrs. Keith said, greeting the child with a loving smile; "come in and give mother a kiss. The pain is quite gone, and I am going to get up now and dress for tea."
"Don't, mother, unless you feel quite, quite strong and well," the little girl entreated, receiving and returning a tender caress. "I'm so glad you are better (oh, it isn't nice to have to do without mother! though I'm sure Milly has tried her very best to fill your place). I wouldn't have come here—because I was afraid of disturbing you—but there's a boy down stairs asking if Milly will go and watch to-night with a sick woman—Mrs. Martin. Claudina Chetwood's to watch, but there ought to be two, he says, and they don't know of anybody else for to-night. She's been sick so long that 'most everybody is worn out."
Professional nurses were unknown in the town, and in time of sickness the only dependence for needed attention, outside of the sufferer's own family, was upon the kindness of neighbors, and as a rule they were exceeding kind.
Mrs. Martin's health had been declining for many months; for weeks she had been confined to bed and in a condition to need constant watching and waiting upon.
The Keiths had scarcely a speaking acquaintance with her, but that made no difference when help was needed.
"Do you feel equal to the task, Mildred?" asked her mother. "I shall be sorry to have you lose your night's rest; but you can make it up to-morrow. I am not likely to have a return of the headache, and when I am 'to the fore' you can be spared, you know," she added sportively, and with a world of motherly pride and affection in the look she bent upon her first-born.
"Yes, mother; it will not hurt me, and I can't hesitate when duty seems so plain," Mildred answered cheerfully. "How soon do they want me, Ada?"
"He says about nine o'clock. Mrs. Prior's going to stay till then. I'll go down and tell him they may expect you;" and with the last word Ada left the room.
Mrs. Keith had left the bed for a low seat before her toilet table, and Mildred was softly brushing out and arranging her still beautiful and abundant hair, very tenderly careful lest too rude a touch should cause a return of the torturing pain.
"Poor, poor woman!" sighed Mrs. Keith, thinking of Mrs. Martin.