"The fever is better," he said, turning to the nurse; "the feverish stage is over, and of course, although we may expect and must guard against complications, there is no reason why the child should not do well as far as that is concerned, but the state of the throat is the real anxiety. I do not like to suggest such a terrible operation as tracheotomy, but if the child does not get relief before long, I fear there is no help for it, and it must be performed." Dorothy bent down and examined the little patient carefully. "I have had a good deal of experience in these cases," she said, after a pause, "and have found "--she mentioned a certain remedy which could be inhaled--"work wonders, especially in the cases of children." "I have not heard of it," said Dr. Staunton, knitting his brows in anxiety, "but it sounds simple, and I see no harm in trying it." "It is very simple," said Dorothy. "I should like to try it." The child moaned and tossed on her pillow. The doctor went out of the room to prepare the medicine which the nurse had recommended, and Dorothy called one of the frightened servants to her side. She told her that she meant to take the child up and walk about the room with her in her arms. "While she is out of bed I will have the windows closed," said the nurse, "and of course she must be well wrapped up in blankets. She may drop off to sleep again in my arms; anyhow, the change of position and the slight movement will be most refreshing to her. Will you make the bed and put on clean sheets while I am walking about with the child?" The girl promised to obey. "It is very infectious, ain't it, miss?" she said suddenly. "It is in God's hands," replied the nurse. There was a sound in her voice, a sort of thrill of strength, which subjugated the girl at once, and made her forget her fears. She obeyed the nurse's directions with a will; and when, in an hour's time, Dr. Staunton returned with the remedy which Nurse Dorothy had suggested, he scarcely knew the sickroom. The little child had been laid back again in bed. Her long hair was combed away from her pale, worn face, Dorothy had plaited it neatly; the little face was washed, and looked almost cool compared with its old flushed and weary condition. The bed was neat, and in perfect order, with snowy sheets. The tired little head rested on a cool pillow. Dorothy and the maid had removed the carpets from the floor, and the room was sprinkled with a disinfectant. Two of the windows were open, and a faint sweet breath of air from the garden outside blew into the room. "Why, nurse, this is an admirable change," said the doctor.