"I won't call him that name agen," she said demurely, "but if he come
he'd do teacher good; only if he did come, he'd ketch the fever too, and
I don't know what's best, only we mustn't let teacher die."

"No, no, my dear; of course not," whispered little Miss Burge hastily.

"But if she did die I know what I should do," said Feelier dreamily, and
with a drowsy look in her eyes, the effect of being washed and the
cooler atmosphere of the room inducing sleep.

"What should you do, my dear?" said Miss Burge, pressing down the pillow
to let the cool air blow upon her cheek.

"I should set violets and primroses all over her grave; and if any of
the other girls was to pick any of 'em, oh, I would give 'em such a
banging! And then--then--then--"

And then poor, weak Ophelia Potts sank into a profound sleep, and little
Miss Burge wiped her eyes and sat and watched Hazel's weary, restless
head; listening to her broken sentences and the incoherent mutterings,
all of which were to the same tune--that she had been weak and cruel and
ungrateful to one who had been all devotion to her, and that she would
never rest till she had tried to make him some amends.

"Poor Bill, if he could only hear her now, how glad he'd be!" sighed the
watcher; "but this will all pass away, and when she gets well she'll
never know she said a word. Poor Bill; it won't never--it couldn't ever
be!"

"I want Mr Burge," cried Hazel suddenly, and her voice sounded hard and
strange. "Tell him to come to me--tell him to come."

"Yes, yes, yes, my darling; he shall come soon."

"He would catch the fever, do you say? No no; I could not give it to
him; he is so kind and good. Tell Mr Geringer, mother, it is
impossible; I could not be his wife."

"Oh, my poor dear!" whispered Miss Burge, bathing Hazel's burning
forehead with the eau-de-cologne that Mrs Potts had now brought; "that
poor, poor, burning, wandering brain. Why don't the doctor come?"

CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

THE QUEEN'S PHYSICIAN.

It was many hours yet before the doctor came, for the life of one
patient is no more to a medical man than that of another, and the great
physician had several urgent cases to see before he could use the
special train placed at his disposal by Hazel's elderly lover, who had
never left the station all the morning, and had given instructions that
the starting of the train should be telegraphed to him from the terminus
in town.

In addition, he had a m