[Illustration: THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER VOL. VIII.—NO. 362.] DECEMBER 4, 1886. [PRICE ONE PENNY.] MERLE’S CRUSADE. BY ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY, Author of “Aunt Diana,” “For Lilias,” etc. [Illustration: “‘OH, MERLE!’ SHE WHISPERED, IN A VOICE OF AGONY.”] _All rights reserved._] CHAPTER IX. BERENGARIA. The bright spring days found me a close prisoner to the house. The end of April had been unusually chilly, and one cold rainy night Reggie was taken with an attack of croup. It was a very severe attack, and for an hour or two my alarm was excessive. Mrs. Morton was at a fancy ball, and Mr. Morton was attending a late debate, and, to add to my trouble, Mrs. Garnett, who would at once have come to my assistance, was confined to her bed with a slight illness. Travers had no experience in these cases, and her presence was perfectly useless. Hannah, frightened and half awake as she was, was far more helpful. Happily Anderson was still up, and he undertook at once to go for the doctor, adding, of his own accord, that he would go round to the stables on his return, and send the carriage off for his mistress. “She is not expected home until three, and it is only half-past one, but she would never forgive us if she were not fetched as quickly as possible.” I thanked Anderson, and begged Hannah to replenish the bath with hot water. Happily, I knew what remedies to use; my former experience in my schoolfellow’s nursery proved useful to me now. I remembered how the doctor had approved of what I had done, and I resolved to do exactly the same for Reggie. Frightened as I was, I am thankful to know my fears did not impede my usefulness; I did all I could to relieve my darling, and Hannah seconded my efforts. I am sure Travers wished with all her heart to help us, but she had no nerve, and her lamentable voice made me a trifle impatient. It was a great relief when Anderson appeared with Dr. Myrtle. He waited for a few minutes to hear from the doctor that all dangers had been averted by the prompt remedies, and then he went in search of Stephenson. It was some time before we heard the sound of carriage wheels. Reggie was still wrapped in a blanket on my lap, and had just fallen asleep, worn out by the violence of the remedies still more than by the attack. Dr. Myrtle whispered to me not to move, as he would speak to Mrs. Morton downstairs, and enforce on her the need of quiet. It would have been grievous to wake the exhausted little creature, and I was quite content to sit holding him in my lap until morning, if Dr. Myrtle thought it well for me to do so.