"Only three of us this morning, 'stead of ten," Ada remarked sadly.
"Well, we'll hope the others will all be back soon;" said Rupert, longing to comfort and cheer his mother.
His head ached and chills were creeping down his back, but he said nothing about it, drank his coffee, forced himself to eat a little, and presently declaring himself done, put on his hat and hurried away on his errand.
It was now a fortnight since Annis had been taken ill and not a drop of rain had fallen yet. The nights and mornings were chilly and damp, then the sun rose and shone all day with a fierce, burning heat that scorched everything it touched; and day by day the fever had found new victims till every physician's hands were full to overflowing.
"How chilly it is!" thought Rupert, as he hastened down the path to the gate, "but it'll be hot enough presently," he added, looking up at the sky; "not a cloud to be seen, and the sun will be glaring down on us as fiercely as ever. I think if there isn't some change soon we'll all sicken and die."
He walked on up the street. Doors and windows were closed; scarcely any one seemed astir.
"They're sleeping late," he thought "Well who can blame them? they're either sick themselves or worn out taking care of the sick."
He came first to the hotel. Mrs. Prior was very busy getting breakfast, but stepped to the door to hear his message.
"I'm dreadful sorry;" she said, "and I'll call round, tell your mother, just as soon as I can; but I've half a dozen boarders down with the fever, and only one girl; the rest's all gone off to 'tend to their own folks; for the fever's bad all round in the country; and between them and the town folks the doctors is goin' night and day."
"I don't see how you can come at all then, Mrs. Prior," Rupert said, "I should think your hands must be more than full here at home."