s having the measles she'd say different,"
she soliloquized.

There was a good-sized bit of brown paper in the garden-house. Lota
rolled it up, laid it near the bedside, lit the edge, and carefully blew
out the match. The paper did not flame, but smouldered slowly, sending
up a curl of smoke. Lady Bird gazed at it with much satisfaction, then,
with a last kiss to Stella, she went away to fetch the doctor, stopping
at Lady Green's door as she passed, to tell her that she had better not
let any of her children come over, because they might catch the measles
and be sick too.

It took some time to rummage out the muff, for Nursey had tucked it far
back on the shelf behind other things. There was nobody in the nursery.
Something unusual seemed to be going on downstairs, for doors were
opening and shutting, and persons were talking and exclaiming. Lota
paid no attention to this; her head was full of her own affairs, and she
had no time to spend on other people's. Muff in hand, she hastened down
the garden walk. As she drew near she smelt smoke, and smiled with
satisfaction. But the smell grew stronger, and the air was blue and
thick. She became alarmed, and began to run. Another moment, and the
house was in sight. Smoke was pouring from the door, from the window,
and--what was that red thing which darted out from the smoke like a long
tongue? Oh, Lady Bird! Lady Bird! fly, hasten, your house is on fire,
and there are the children inside with none but you to aid them!

Did ever mother hesitate when her little ones were in danger? Lady Bird
did not. With a shriek of affright she plunged boldly into the midst of
the smoke. An awful sight met her eyes through the open door. The
wall-paper was on fire, the cotton rug, the table-cover! Little red
flames were creeping up the valance of the crib in which poor sick
Stella lay! The other children were sitting in a row opposite, very
calm and still, but blisters had begun to form on Imogene's waxen
cheeks, and a cinder, lodged on Ning-Po's flaxen wig, was scorching and
singeing. What a spectacle to meet a mother's eyes! Oh, Lady Bird, haste
to the rescue!

She did not falter. In the twinkling of an eye she had dashed into the
burning room, had caught Stella from her bed, the others from their
chairs, and with all four hugged tight to her heart was making for the
door. Ah! a spark fell on the white apron, on the holland frock! Her
rapid movement fanned it. It flickered, blazed, the r