“Why, I find that we are to have a very dangerous epidemic of typhoid fever among the negroes here. When the first case occurred ten days ago I hoped that might be all; but two days later I found two more cases; day before yesterday there were five more. So it is obvious that we are to have an epidemic. All the cases have appeared among the field hands and their families out at the far quarters, and so I hope that the house servants and the people around the stables will escape. But the outbreak is really very serious and the disease is of the most virulent type. I must literally fight it with fire. I have already set men at work building new quarters down by the Silver Spring, a mile away from the infected place, and as soon as I can I’m going to move all the people and set fire to all the old quarters. I’ve bought an old circus tent in Richmond, and I expect it by express today. As soon as it comes I’m going to set it up on the Haw Branch hill, and put all the sick people into it, so as to separate them from those that are well. As fast as others show symptoms of the disease, I’ll remove them also to the hospital tent, and for that purpose I have ordered forty cots and a lot of new blankets and pillows.” Dorothy ejaculated her sorrow and sympathy with the poor blacks, and quickly added the question: “What is it that I can do, Cousin Arthur? Tell me; you know I will do it.” “But, Dorothy, dear, I don’t want you to make up your mind till you have thought it all over.” “My mind is already made up. You want me to nurse these poor sick people, and of course I’m going to do it. You are thinking that the disease is contagious--” “No, it is only infectious,” he broke in with the instinct of scientific exactitude strong upon him. “Well, anyhow, it’s catching, and you think I may catch it, and you want me to think out whether I’m afraid of that or not. Very well. I’ve already thought that out. _You_ are going to be with the sick people night and day. Cousin Arthur, I am only a girl, but I’m no more a coward than you are. Tell me what I’m to do. It doesn’t need any thinking out.” “But, Dorothy, listen to me. These are not your people. If this outbreak had occurred at Pocahontas, the matter would have been different. You might well think that you owed a duty to the people on your own plantation, but you owe none to these people of mine.” “Oh, yes, I do. I live at Wyanoke. Besides they are human beings and they are in need of help. I don’t know how I can help, but you are going to tell me, and I’m going to do what you want. I will not waste a day in thinking.” “But, my child, the danger in this case is really very great. Indeed it is extremely probable that if you do what you propose to do, you will have the fever, and as I have already said, it has assumed an unusually virulent form.”