Aunty had for some time been out of danger from the fever, or Mary could not have left her to attend on the Billiters, urgent as was their need. But her weakness was so great that she had to be satisfied to lie still all day in the intervals of Mary’s little visits. Poor Jem brought her this and that, when she asked for it, but he was more trouble than help, from his incurable determination to shut all doors and windows, and keep a roaring fire: he did everything else, within his power, that his mother desired him, but on these points he was immoveable. If ever his mother closed her eyes, he took the opportunity to put more wood on the fire; and he looked so grievously distressed if requested to take it off again, that at last he was let alone. Mary was fairly accustoming him to occupy himself in bringing pails of water and carrying away all refuse, when she was summoned to the Billiters; but the hint was given, and the neighbours saw that they need no longer use water three or four times over for washing, while poor Jem was happy to carry it away, rinse the pails, and bring fresh. His cousin Mary had often of late found him thus engaged: but this morning he was at home, cowering in a chair. When she set the windows open, he made no practical objection; and the fire was actually out. Mary was not therefore surprised at Aunty’s reply to her inquiries. “I am tolerably easy myself, my dear, but I can’t tell what has come over Jem; it seems to me that somebody must have been giving him drink, he staggered so when he crossed the room half-an-hour ago; yet I hardly think he would take it, he has such a dislike to everything strong. What a thing it is that I am lying here, unable to stir to see about it myself!” “We will see about it,” said Mary, going to poor Jem. “I neither think he would touch drink, nor that any body would play such a trick with him at such a time. No,” she went on, when she had felt his pulse and looked well at his face, “it is not drink: it is illness.” “The fever,” groaned the mother. “I think so. Courage, Aunty! we will nurse him well: and the house is wholesome now, you know. You are through the fever: and his chance is a better one than yours, the house is so much more airy, and I have more experience.” “But, Mary, you cannot go on for ever, without sleep or rest, in this way. What is to be done, I don’t see.” “I do, Aunty. I am very well to-day. To-morrow will take care of itself. I must get Jem to bed; and if he soon seems to be moaning and restless, you must mind it as little as you can. It is very miserable, as you have good reason to know; but——” “I know something that you do not, I see,” said Aunty. “A more patient creature than my poor Jem does not live in Bleaburn, nor anywhere else.” “What a good chance that gives him!” observed Mary, “and what a blessing it is, for himself and for you! I must go to my cousin now presently; and I will send the doctor to see Jem.”