"O mother, mother, if we should lose her!"
"We will do all we can to make her well, asking God's blessing on our efforts," Mrs. Keith answered with determined cheerfulness, though a sharp pang shot through her heart at the bare suggestion.
Dr. Grange was sent for at once. He pronounced the child very ill, but by no means hopelessly so.
"The sickly season," he remarked, "is setting in unusually early and with uncommon severity, both in town and country; people are taken down with the fever every day. But it is what I have been expecting as the result of the long heavy rains we had all through the spring, succeeded by this intensely hot, dry weather. Why we haven't had a drop of rain now, scarcely a cloud, for three weeks; the heavens above us are as brass, and the marshes and pools of stagnant water on every side are teeming with miasma.
"Keep the children and yourselves out of the sun during the heat of the day, and do not on any account allow them to be exposed to the night air and dew."
"Thank you for your suggestions," said Mr. Keith, "we will do our best to follow them."
He had just come home from his office; for it was near tea-time. The children too had come in from their work or play, and the whole family were gathered in the sitting-room, where the baby girl lay in her cradle, mother and sister hanging over her in tender solicitude.
Fan had climbed her father's knee and was lying very quiet in his arms with her head on his shoulder.
The doctor taking his hat to go, paused as his eye fell on her, and stepping quickly to her side, took her hand in his.
"This child is sick too," he said, and went on to question and prescribe for her, directing that she should be put to bed at once.