"Is he very ill?" Elsie asked.
"I should just say he was. I had the fever when I was a bit bigger than you, and my head wandered. They said I chattered and screamed, and had to be held down in the bed. I should have died for certain if I hadn't been taken to the hospital, for I was awful bad; and so's he. Can't you see he is?"
Elsie began to cry and to tremble. "They must take him to the hospital," she cried. "They shall! I'll make them! If only Duncan was back home now, I wouldn't mind anything."
"You was a stupid to run away if you'd got a good home," the girl said. "Catch Meg running away from any one who was good to her! They think her an idiot, but she's not quite so stupid as that."
Elsie was beginning to think very much the same thing. Her trouble had completely driven from her mind the high hopes of future grandeur with which she had started. They scarcely even came into her head, and when they did for a moment pass through her brain, everything seemed so altered, that there was little comfort or attraction in the thought.
If she had known, she told herself again and again, she never would have done it. To-night she could not help admitting to herself that she would give anything to be back in her old home, with Duncan hearty and well, and all the old grievances about Robbie, and the fetching and carrying, and what not, into the bargain. How trifling and insignificant they seemed in comparison with her present troubles!
Suppose he should die for want of attention and comfort! That dreadful "fairy mother," as she called herself, would do very little for him. She did not care. She had pretended to be kind, and sweet, and good when any one was near at hand to see her, but when they had been alone in the train she had taken no notice of Duncan, except to scold him, and tell him he was shamming. This new mother was a poor substitute for the old one, who had nursed any of them day and night when they had been ill, with gentle, untiring care, although she was strict, and would, have them do all sorts of things that Elsie did not like when they were strong and well.
The girl Meg stayed with them for some time longer; but Duncan seemed to lie so quietly, that after a while she said she would go back, if Elsie didn't feel so timid now. The little fellow seemed better, and she did not think he would make any more disturbance that night. The poor creature was tired out with a hard day's work, and could ill spare her rest. She was ignorant, too, and did not know that this quiet that had fallen upon the child was not the healthful peace leading to recovery, but only the exhaustion after the terrible frenzy the poor little disordered brain had passed through.
Still it was a merciful peace, for Elsie's fears grew fainter as he lay there so quietly, and at last she fell asleep, thinking that he too was sleeping.
She was awakened by Meg's presence. There was a glimmering of light in the room, but so little of it that she was astonished to find how late it was—past seven o'clock.