"She has the croup, Dorrie. I am going right down."
And Louise searched rapidly, yet with the air of one who knew what she wanted and where it was, in her trunk for a package.
Dorothy shivered.
"O Louise! What if mother doesn't think there is much the matter with her, and will not do things?"
"I wouldn't borrow trouble, dear. Your poor mother is more likely to be overwhelmed with anxiety. Come down; we can find something to do." And she sped swiftly downstairs.
Whereupon Dorothy's courage returned. She followed suit, and immediately attacked the stove, and arranged kindlings with skilled fingers, and applied her match, and lifted on the large kettle, and filled it with water; while Louise pushed boldly into the bedroom, none too soon, for the white-faced mother sorely needed help.
It was a rapid and very severe form of that terrible disease, and there were no young men to hasten for a doctor, though anxiety lent haste to the old father's fingers, and he was even then saddling a horse with what speed he could.
"Have you tried hot water?" was Louise's first question, as she hastened to raise the head of the struggling, suffering child.
"No," said Mrs. Morgan, her voice expressing an anxiety that she could not conceal. "There is no hot water; and there isn't anything; and the doctor will never get here. There is no fire."
"Yes, there is," said Louise, who already caught its brisk snapping. "Dorrie is there; we will have hot water in five minutes," and she hurried to the kitchen.