CHAPTER X.

ANOTHER FEVER VICTIM

The account the doctor gave Nurse Blunt of the deplorable state of the sickness in Willowton would have made a weaker woman quail, but Nurse Blunt was strong in body and mind.

"I mayn't sit up night, sir, as you know," she said, "but I'll do my best all day; and I'll begin at six o'clock to-morrow morning if you'll give me list of the most urgent cases."

The doctor took out his pocket-book.

"Four cases in Gravel-pit Lane," he read, "two in the main street, three in the back alley. None of these are particularly dangerous ones, but they all require great care, as you know, and the difficulty is to prevent their relations feeding them with forbidden things."

"I know that well, sir," said the nurse sorrowfully; "I've had a great many sad experiences of that. Many a poor thing has died through being given solid food at a time when nothing but milk should have been allowed."

"Yes," assented the doctor, "of course, it is as you say; and it has been the cause of death to several of our people. I cannot make them see the necessity for following my orders implicitly; they think it does not matter, or I won't find out. Well, perhaps I don't, but nature does, and we soon see the result."

"Where shall I go first?" asked nurse.

"Well, there is a new case declared only this afternoon--a Mrs. Lummis, a nice woman, a widow. She has no one really to look after her but a lazy ne'er-do-weel of a son. Perhaps you had better go there first. She will not keep you long. Everything will be neat; and though very poor, I fancy she knows what ought to be. If wanted, I'll give you an order for milk. Major Bailey has telegraphed from South Africa that his dairy (and he keeps a lot of cows) is at our disposal. You'd better tell her son he must go for it every morning." He wrote out an order as he spoke. "The others have all got them," he continued.

And after receiving a few more important directions, the nurse took her leave and strolled back through the village to her lodgings.

Milly and her grandfather were still up when she got back, though they usually "turned in" earlier. Milly, of course, waited to hear whether her lodger wanted anything before she retired for the night.

"Nothing, thank you," she said in answer to her inquiries; "but if you'll let me have breakfast at eight o'clock I should be glad. And perhaps you can tell me which of these places comes first. I like to take my patients as they come; it saves time and trouble, and they get to know when to expect me."

She handed Milly the doctor's paper, and Milly explained. Nurse took out a pencil and made some notes on the margin.

"Oh! and then there's Mrs. Lummis," she said.

"I am to go there first. Where does she live?"

"Mrs. Lummis!" echoed Milly with surprise. "Is she ill?"

"So the doctor says. And it appears she has no one to look after her but a good-for-nothing son. Poor woman! I'm sorry for her, for I shan't be able to give her much of my time with a list like this!"

Milly would have liked to say something in defence of George Lummis, for she had, or fancied she had, seen something of another side of his character when he had jumped across the stream and stood beside her so meekly while she spoke to him about his wasting his time on the bridge. She had fancied there was something rather fine about him, he had looked so strong and honest and capable for the moment; but then a little later how different had been his appearance! The remembrance of that kept her quiet; she had nothing to say.

Old Jimmy woke up just in time to hear nurse's remark. "Yes," he said, "a good-fur-northin', idlin' young fule." And if Milly had not stopped him with a timely reminder that it was nearly half-past nine, he would have plunged into the history of all poor Geo's antecedents for several generations. As it was, nurse was not particularly interested, and backed up Milly's suggestion that it was high time all good people went to bed.

In the meantime, in the little house on the hill that lazy, idle good-for-nothing was making ready for the night.

He pulled down the little blind over the open window, and set a jug of milk and water with a glass by his mother's bedside, and smoothed the sheet over her hot and tossing limbs.

"You just sing out, mother, if you want anything," he said, speaking in a comfortable, low-toned voice that did not jar on her aching nerves. "Or if you can't sleep. I'll come and set by you. I'd like to do that now if you'd let me."

"No, no, Geo my boy, that I won't; I'm quite comfortable as far as that goes. If it wasn't for the heat, maybe I'd get some sleep myself. You go to bed now, and when you wake come in and see after me. I'll call you sure enough if I want you."

So Geo came away, and throwing himself on his bed was soon sound asleep.

In the house next door a girl was ill. Mrs. Lummis had been helping to nurse her. If only she could be left, her mother would come and see after her, she well knew; for the poor are always at their best in times of illness, and the way they help each other is a pattern to those above them. But the girl was very bad indeed, not likely to recover, and Mrs. Lummis could not look for help from the nearly worn-out mother. It was a comfort that Geo seemed to be so handy. She was lucky, she thought, to have such a son; but she felt anxious, knowing that her illness was likely to be a long one. She knew not of the likelihood of the nurse coming to her. Like everybody else in the village, she knew of her advent, but nobody had told her she had really come. If she had she would have passed a less miserable night, perhaps; for, of course, nothing was farther away from her than sleep.

After all she had heard, nurse was rather surprised, when she knocked at the door about seven o'clock next morning, to find it opened to her by a pleasant, bright-faced young man, who looked as if he had just dipped his head into a tub of cold water, so fresh was his colour.

"_You_ haven't been up all night, I'll be bound," she inwardly ejaculated; "but you look different from what I expected."

"I am the new nurse," she said in answer to the astonishment that shot out of his blue eyes, "and the doctor has sent me to see after your mother. What sort of night has she had?"

"Pretty bad," said Geo. "I was just gettin' th' kettle to boil, and thought I'd make her some tea."

"Milk is better for her," said the nurse.

"That's too early for milk yet," said Geo; "you can't get milk at the shop before eight o'clock."

"Oh, well, I've got a ticket for you," and the nurse produced it out of her little black bag.

"Why, that's for the Hall!" said Geo with surprise.

"Yes, that's all right; the doctor sent it. You'd better take a can and go and fetch it at once. I'll see after your mother if you'll just take me to her."

"But I think I'd better first let her know," said Geo, thinking this newcomer was taking rather too much on herself.

Nurse read his thoughts and flushed a little. She was so full of the importance of her mission, so anxious to do her work thoroughly, that she sometimes forgot the little courtesies due to everybody, sick or well.

"Certainly," she said, rather curtly. "I'll wait till you come down."

George disappeared up the steep little staircase that led out of the sitting-room to the bedroom overhead. He was gone a few minutes, and when he came back he said his mother would be glad to see nurse if the doctor had sent her, and he showed her up. The sick woman, who looked thin and flushed with fever, looked half frightened at the nurse for a moment, and then began to cry.

"Leave her to me," said nurse to Geo, who did not understand. "She'll be all right in a minute or two."

So Geo went off in his usual leisurely way for the milk, and the nurse talked soothingly to the sick woman, took her temperature, which was very high, and gave her some fever medicine.

"Are you going to do for her?" asked the nurse bluntly when Geo returned.

"I s'pose so," answered Geo in the same way.

"Well, I'll call in some time again this afternoon. You need not stop with her all day, but you must come in and out; and give her nothing but milk, but plenty of it. But can you be spared from your work? Oh," as Geo hesitated, "I forgot."

Geo saw she had already heard about him. It was unnecessary to explain.

"I'll due wot yue say," he said simply, opening the door and letting her out; and then he went back to his mother, who spoke gratefully of the nurse and seemed glad of her help.