will be
pleased to hear this, mother. You know how you have wished him to be
called in at The Grange."

"At The Grange!" exclaimed Mrs. Staunton, starting up. "You don't mean
to tell me that the Harveys have sent for your father?"

"Yes, mother, I do; and is not that good news? The little girl is very
ill, and Squire Harvey came over to fetch father last night--that time
when the bell rang so suddenly."

"I remember," said Mrs. Staunton. "I made sure that someone came from
the Watsons'."

"No; it was the Squire who called--Squire Harvey. Father went there and
found the little girl very ill. He came back again this morning, and
took Dorothy Fraser out with him as nurse, and he saw me, and he asked
me to tell you that he would stay at The Grange for a couple of days
until he could pull the child through, and you are on no account to
expect him home, but you are to keep as well and cheerful as possible
for his sake; and Dr. Edwards from Boltonville is to take father's work
for the time. So you see," continued Effie in conclusion, "that the
horse and gig will be at liberty, and we can go for a drive. I thought
we might go to Boltonville, and take baby, and buy some fruit for
preserving. There are sure to be heaps of strawberries at the Bolton
Farm if we drive over early."

All the time Effie was speaking, Mrs. Staunton kept gazing at her. As
the eager words flowed from the young girl's lips, the heart of the
mother seemed to faint within her.

"You," she said, after a pause; her voice trembled, no words could come
for an instant,--"you," she went on,--"Effie, you have not told me what
ails the child?"

"She is very ill, mother; that goes without saying."

"But what ails her? Why should not your father come home?"

Effie thought for a moment. "I will tell about the scarlet fever, but
not about the diphtheria," she said to herself. "Mother is always so
terrified about diphtheria ever since poor little Johnny died of it,
long, long ago. She won't mind scarlet fever so much."

"Why don't you speak, Effie?" exclaimed her mother. "You terrify me with
your grave and silent way."

"There is nothing to be terrified about, mother, but you are weak, and
therefore you get unduly nervous. I was only thinking for a moment
whether you had better know; but of course, if you wish it, you must be
told. The child at The Grange is suffering from scarlet fever."

"Do you think it will spread?"

"Father is very anxious. I heard