“Headache,” piped the little feeble voice from the bed. “We’ll soon make that all right then,” said Jeannie. “Now lie quite still and covered up, and your mother will come to you again.” “And I sha’n’t go a walk to-day?” said Maria. “No, you shall stay in bed and rest. You are a little tired.” Jeannie closed the door when they came out. “Yes, she has high fever,” she said to Mrs. Raymond. “Go and sit with her, and don’t let her raise herself in bed. I am afraid it is typhoid, but we can’t tell yet. I will see you again before I leave the house. I am just going to speak to your husband, unless you will take the responsibility of what you do.” “You must speak to him, then,” said Mrs. Raymond. “But please remember, dear Miss Avesham, how careful he is about infection.” “Yes, I will remember,” said Jeannie. The dressing-room door was shut when she went downstairs again, and she knocked at it. It flew open, and it seemed to Jeannie that the Colonel thought he was opening to his wife. “I want to speak to you, Colonel Raymond,” she said. “Oh, please don’t apologize for the state of your room. I have only a minute, and you need not come downstairs.” “You have seen Maria?” asked the Colonel. “Yes; she is ill. She must be treated as if she had typhoid.” “God bless my soul!” exclaimed the Colonel. “Why, I have seen men die of it like flies!” “They are dying of it like flies here,” said Jeannie. “Now I don’t want to dissuade you from going away, though for a man of your age there is really no risk. Still there is no telling what fright will do. If you were frightened of whooping-cough you might still catch it. But I want to know this. Will you send your daughter to the hospital? She will be as well looked after there as here; it will take anxiety off your wife, and you can take the other two children away with you. Might I trouble you to open the window? This mixture of camphor and cigar is overpowering.” “She would go as a paying patient?” asked the Colonel. “Of course,” said Jeannie. “Then, upon my soul, Miss Avesham, I think we’ll keep her here. She’ll be better looked after in her own home. My wife is an excellent nurse, and any little delicacies she might require will be more easily supplied at home.” “As you will,” said Jeannie. “If, as I am afraid, it is typhoid, you will of course have to have two trained nurses, by day and night. Mrs. Raymond told me the decision would be with you.” Colonel Raymond looked undecided, and slipped on his coat. “Very difficult to decide,” he said, “very difficult. Which do you recommend, Miss Avesham?” “It is difficult to choose,” said Jeannie. “Ah, it lightened again; I hope we shall have rain. As you say, perhaps she would be more comfortable here. Please tell me at once. I am going straight back to the hospital, and I will tell them to send an ambulance if you decide she should go.” “Well, she shall go, she shall go,” said the Colonel. “Nothing like proper treatment.”