"Not mind your having gone!" repeated Mr. Bayden. "It was a most wicked, thoughtless act. And to lead Harold into mischief too! My poor Harold!" "Oh, Mr. Bayden, is anything the matter with Harold?" Helen's agonized tones touched the clergyman, preoccupied as he was. "I don't know," he returned more gently. "He ate no lunch, and he complained of headache this afternoon. It may be nothing." "But why--why?" began Helen, when, to her joy, she saw her father a little ahead of them. "There is father!" she cried joyfully, running after him. Her tale was nearly told before Mr. Bayden came up to them. "What has my little girl been doing?" asked the colonel, smiling. "Interfering with your sick folk? No harm done, I hope." "I hope not," answered Mr. Bayden tremulously. "But--shall I speak before her?" "Run on, Helen," said the colonel. "Now," he went on as Helen obeyed, an anxious look gathering on his face, "what is it?" "Just this. I met the doctor this afternoon, and he fears an epidemic in the village. Jim Hunt is dying, may be dead already. He ought to have been isolated from the first. But our regular doctor is away, and this one has no sense. As for that silly Mrs. Hunt--" "Has the doctor pronounced the disease infectious?" interrupted the colonel impatiently. "He doesn't know what to make of it. Two more children in the village are down with it." "And our children have been exposed to it?" Mr. Bayden nodded. "I am sorry, Bayden," resumed the colonel. "Let us hope that no harm will come of it. Helen has been thoughtless. I will speak to her. The less said to anyone else the better. I daresay it would only unnecessarily alarm your wife. Come in now and have some tea." "Don't ask me," cried the clergyman, his excitement rising again. "Harold was not well when I left home. Nothing but duty would have taken me out. Good-bye, good-bye!" Mr. Bayden hurried away a good deal annoyed with Colonel Desmond for his apparent unconcern, and resolved to impart the whole affair to his wife as soon as possible. Helen rejoined her father. "Oh, Helen!" said the latter gravely, "this is a bad business. What could have induced you to go to the Hunts' cottage, and to take Harold with you? I am really vexed with you." "Indeed, father," faltered Helen, "I did not think that I was doing anything wrong." "Didn't you know that Jim has a fever. And now Mr. Bayden says that Harold has taken it." Helen gave a little cry and buried her face in her hands. She understood it all now, Mr. Bayden's distress and her father's annoyance. And Harold? Then her thoughts stopped, they dared not travel further.