During the first week there was an improvement in the child’s health,
which justified the doctor’s hopeful anticipations. Mrs. Linley wrote
cheerfully to her husband; and the better nature of Mrs. Linley’s
mother seemed, by some inscrutable process, to thrive morally under the
encouraging influences of the sea air. It may be a bold thing to say,
but it is surely true that our virtues depend greatly on the state of
our health.
During the second week, the reports sent to Mount Morven were less
encouraging. The improvement in Kitty was maintained; but it made no
further progress.
The lapse of the third week brought with it depressing results. There
could be no doubt now that the child was losing ground. Bitterly
disappointed, Mrs. Linley wrote to her medical adviser, describing the
symptoms, and asking for instructions. The doctor wrote back: “Find out
where your supply of drinking water comes from. If from a well, let me
know how it is situated. Answer by telegraph.” The reply arrived: “A
well near the parish church.” The doctor’s advice ran back along the
wires: “Come home instantly.”
They returned the same day--and they returned too late.
Kitty’s first night at home was wakeful and restless; her little hands
felt feverish, and she was tormented by perpetual thirst. The good
doctor still spoke hopefully; attributing the symptoms to fatigue after
the journey. But, as the days followed each other, his medical visits
were paid at shorter intervals. The mother noticed that his pleasant
face became grave and anxious, and implored him to tell her the truth.
The truth was told in two dreadful words: “Typhoid Fever.”
A day or two later, the doctor spoke privately with Mr. Linley. The
child’s debilitated condition--that lowered state of the vital
power which he had observed when Kitty’s case was first submitted to
him--placed a terrible obstacle in the way of successful resistance to
the advance of the disease. “Say nothing to Mrs. Linley just yet. There
is no absolute danger so far, unless delirium sets in.” “Do you think it
likely?” Linley asked. The doctor shook his head, and said “God knows.”
On the next evening but one, the fatal symptom showed itself. There
was nothing violent in the delirium. Unconscious of past events in the
family life, the poor child supposed that her governess was living
in the house as usual. She piteously wondered why Sydney remained
downstairs in the schoolroom. “Oh, don’t keep her away from me! I want
Syd! I want Syd!” That was her one cry. When exhaustion silenced her,
they hoped that the sad delusion was at an end. No! As the slow fire of
the fever flamed up again, the same words were on the child’s lips, the
same fond hope was in her sinking heart.
The doctor led Mrs. Linley out of the room. “Is this the governess?” he
asked.
“Yes!”
“Is she within easy reach?”
“She is employed in the family of a friend of ours, living five miles
away from us.”
“Send for her instantly!”
Mrs. Linley looked at him with a wildly-mingled expression of hope and
fear. She was not thinking of herself--she was not even thinking, for
that one moment, of the child. What would her husband say, if she (who
had extorted his promise never to see the governess again) brought
Sydney Westerfield back to the house?
The doctor spoke to her more strongly still.
“I don’t presume to inquire into your private reasons for hesitating to
follow my advice,” he said; “but I am bound to tell you the truth. My
poor little patient is in serious danger--every hour of delay is an hour
gained by death. Bring that lady to the bedside as fast as your carriage
can fetch her, and let us see the result. If Kitty recognizes her
governess--there, I tell you plainly, is the one chance of saving the
child’s life.”
Mrs. Linley’s resolution flashed on him in her weary eyes--the eyes
which, by day and night alike, had known so little rest. She rang for
her maid. “Tell your master I want to speak to him.”
The woman answered: “My master has gone out.”
The doctor watched the mother’s face. No sign of hesitation appeared in
it--the one thought in her mind now was the thought of the child. She
called the maid back.
“Order the carriage.”
“At what time do you want it, ma’am?”
“At once!”