"Oh, certainly," replied Mrs. Pinckney; "and now that I'm so much relieved I'd like some dinner myself.—Mr, Brown, do you know what prospects there are of our having any dinner?"
The tutor shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands with a deprecatory gesture: "I know not, my dear madame. Les enfants et moi, we have our dinner at two o'clock: we did not comprehend that madame would return to-night," as a happy apologetic afterthought.
Mrs. Pinckney glanced at a little watch which she took from her belt: "Twelve o'clock, but the servants probably have not gone to bed."—She rang the bell. "Mary," to a maid who entered, "tell the cook to make some tea and send in cold chicken or beef—whatever is left from dinner."
"I think the fire is out, Mrs. Pinckney," the servant hesitatingly replied.
"Oh, no matter: let her get a few chips and make a fire: I must have my tea."—Doctor Harris rose. "Oh, doctor, don't go until you have taken one more look at my darling."
The nursery was on the same floor. Mrs. Pinckney insisted on kissing the child, much to the physician's annoyance. He checked her, and carefully refrained from talking himself while in the room. As he was taking leave at the front door she repeated, "Now, doctor, you're sure I can be comfortable—that I can go to bed and go to sleep? Tell me positively"—and she looked earnestly in his face—"that the child will never have another convulsion."
He laughed, and bent an admiring tender, gaze on the pretty mother, who stood appealingly before him: "My dear Mrs. Pinckney, I cannot swear positively that Harry will never have another convulsion, particularly if he is allowed to eat nuts and raisins ad libitum: however, with ordinary care I don't think it at all probable."—"Is it possible," he reflected as he drove home, "that I want to marry that woman, selfish and inconsiderate as she is? Why, she would have let the governess, a perfect stranger, sit up with the child if I hadn't interfered! She is awfully pretty, though. I can't help liking her: then, her money would be a comfortable addition to my professional emoluments."
Although the hot, strong tea was very grateful in her exhausted condition, this, with the very excitements of the day, kept Miss Featherstone awake the brief remainder of the night. She breakfasted the following morning with the children and their tutor. To her great surprise, little Harry, looking pale and wan, was at the table.
"Madame is too ill to rise," Mr. Brown announced in his very best English, "and the bonne is attending her. Will this dear mees take the head of the table and us oblige by pouring out the coffee?"
Miss Featherstone cheerfully acceded, and left her own breakfast cooling while she coaxed and consoled the little invalid, who was quite fretful after his last night's experiences. She was making an attempt to eat something herself when Mrs. Pinckney sent for her, and, as there was no one to take care of the child, she carried him in her arms to his mother's room.