"Guy, there is a messenger waiting at the door to see you. Some
patient requires prompt attendance." Mrs. Chilton stood near the
window, and the moonlight flashed over her handsome face. Her
brother frowned and motioned her away, but, smiling quietly, she put
her beautifully molded hand on his shoulder, and said: "I am sorry I disturbed your meditations, but if you will practice--
"
"Who sent for me?"
"I really don't know."
"Will you be good enough to inquire?"
"Certainly." She glided gracefully from the room.
The whip-poor-will flew from his marble perch, and, as the mournful
tones died away, the master sighed, and returned to the bedside of
his charge. He renewed the ice on her brow, and soon after his
sister re-entered.
"Mr. Vincent is very sick, and you are wanted immediately."
"Very well." He crossed the room and rang the bell.
"Guy, are you sure that girl has not scarlet fever?"
"May, I have answered that question at least twice a day for nearly
a week."
"But you should sympathize with a mother's anxiety. I dread to
expose Pauline to danger."
"Then let her remain where she is."
"But I prefer having her come home, if I could feel assured that
girl has only brain fever."
"Then, once for all, there is no scarlet fever in the house."
He took a vial from his pocket, and poured a portion of its contents
into the glass, which he placed on a stand by Beulah's bed; then,
turning to Harriet, who had obeyed his summons, he directed her to
administer the medicine hourly.
"Guy, you may give your directions to me, for I shall stay with the
child to-night." As she spoke, she seated herself at the foot of the
bed.
"Harriet, hand me the candle in the hall." She did so; and, as her
master took it from her hand, he said abruptly: "Tell Hal to bring my buggy round, and then you may go to bed. I
will ring if you are wanted." He waited until she was out of
hearing, and, walking up to his sister, held the candle so that the
light fell full upon her face.
"May, can I trust you?"
"Brother, you are cruelly unjust." She covered her face with her
lace handkerchief.
"Am I, indeed?"
"Yes, you wrong me hourly, with miserable suspicions. Guy, remember
that I have your blood in my veins, and it will not always tamely
bear insult, even from you." She removed the handkerchief, and shook
back her glossy curls, while her face grew still paler than was its
wont.