No More Learning

The Doctor called thrice in the twenty-four hours, and
the house reeked with the smell of the Condy's Fluid, chlorine-water,
and carbolic acid washes. Mrs. Mallowe kept to her own rooms--she
considered that she had made sufficient concessions in the cause of
humanity--and Mrs. Hauksbee was more esteemed by the Doctor as a help in
the sick-room than the half-distraught mother.

"I know nothing of illness," said Mrs. Hauksbee to the Doctor. "Only
tell me what to do, and I'll do it. "

"Keep that crazy woman from kissing the child, and let her have as
little to do with the nursing as you possibly can," said the Doctor;
"I'd turn her out of the sick-room, but that I honestly believe she'd
die of anxiety. She is less than no good, and I depend on you and the
ayahs, remember. "

Mrs. Hauksbee accepted the responsibility, though it painted olive
hollows under her eyes and forced her to her oldest dresses. Mrs. Bent
clung to her with more than childlike faith.

"I know you'll, make Dora well, won't you? " she said at least twenty
times a day; and twenty times a day Mrs.
Hauksbee answered valiantly,
"Of course I will. "

But Dora did not improve, and the Doctor seemed to be always in the
house.

"There's some danger of the thing taking a bad turn," he said; "I'll
come over between three and four in the morning tomorrow. "

"Good gracious! " said Mrs. Hauksbee. "He never told me what the turn
would be! My education has been horribly neglected; and I have only this
foolish mother-woman to fall back upon. "

The night wore through slowly, and Mrs. Hauksbee dozed in a chair by the
fire. There was a dance at the Viceregal Lodge, and she dreamed of it
till she was aware of Mrs. Bent's anxious eyes staring into her own.

"Wake up! Wake up! Do something! " cried Mrs.