In a fear bordering on delirium he went downstairs and shook Pete by the shoulders to awaken him. “Come quickly,” he said.
Pete opened his eyes with a bewildered look» “She's better, isn't she?” he asked.
“Courage,” said Philip.
“Is she worse?”
“It's life or death now. We must try something that I saw when I was away.”
“Good Lord, and I've been sleeping! Save her, Philip! You're great; your clever——”
“Be quiet, for God's sake, my good fellow! Quick, a kettle of boiling water—a blanket—some hot towels.”
“Oh, you're a friend, you'll save her. The doctors don't know nothing.”
Ten minutes afterwards the child made a feeble cry, coughed loosely, threw up phlegm, and came out of the drowsy land which it had inhabited for a week. In ten minutes more it was wrapped in the hot towels and sitting on Pete's knee before a brisk are, opening its little eyes and pursing its little mouth, and making some inarticulate communication.
Then Grannie awoke with a start, and reproached herself for sleeping. “But dear heart alive,” she cried, with both hands up, “the bogh villish is mended wonderful.”