She heard her father's voice in the kitchen.
"Here, Aunt Wealthy, is some steak; rather better than usual, I think; can we have a bit broiled for breakfast?" and Miss Stanhope's cheery tones in reply,
"Yes, Stuart, I'll put it right on. I'm so glad you succeeded in getting some fresh meat. It's something of a rarity to us in these days, and I hope they'll all relish it, Marcia and Milly, especially; for they both need something to build up their strength."
"Where are they? not able to be up?"
His tone was anxious and concerned.
Mildred did not catch the words of Miss Stanhope's reply, but the door opened, her father came to her side, stooped over her and kissed her pale cheek tenderly.
"How are you, daughter? Don't be discouraged; we'll have you all right before long."
"O father, I'm so out of heart," she sobbed, raising herself to put her arms round his neck and lay her head on his shoulder.
"Oh, that won't do! you must be brave and hopeful," he said, stroking her hair. "You're not so very ill, my child; ague is not a dangerous disease."
"It isn't that, but there's so much to be done and nobody to do it; we're all so poorly."