e fretting ceased
as her cool hand stroked the hot little forehead, and her voice began a
slumber song. It was the "White Seal's Lullaby."

"'Oh, hush thee my baby, the night is behind us,
And black are the waters that sparkled so green.'"

How often she had read it in her "Jungle Book," but she had no idea how
beautiful it was until she heard it as her godmother was singing it.
There was the slow, restful, swinging motion of the waves in that
music; the coolness of the deep green seas. How quickly it took away the
fever and the aching, and left the healing of sleep in its wake!

"'Where billow meets billow, there soft be thy pillow.
Oh, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee,
Asleep in the arms of the slow swinging seas.'"

Betty, in her room across the hall, leaned her head against the
window-sill and looked out into the darkness. There were tears in her
eyes. "Oh," she whispered, with a quivering lip, "if I only had a mother
to sing to me like that, I wouldn't mind having the measles or anything
else!"

* * * * *

The worst was over in a few days, and then two cots were carried into
Eugenia's room for Lloyd and Joyce to occupy during the day. The windows
still had to be kept darkened, but the girls managed to find a great
deal to amuse themselves with. They would not have fared so well had it
not been for Betty. Many an hour she spent in the dim room, when the
summer was calling to her on every breeze to come out in its sunshine
and be glad in its cheer. Many a game of checkers she played with the
exacting invalids, when she longed to be riding over the country on
Lad. And she read aloud by the single ray of light admitted through the
shutters, and told stories until her voice was husky.

"It's fun, isn't it?" said Eugenia, one day when they were waiting for
their lunch to be brought up. "I am always wondering what is coming
next, for Cousin Elizabeth has never missed a day, sending up some
surprise with our meals. It is a continual surprise-party."

"We'll be dreadfully spoiled," said Joyce, "like a little boy at home
that I know. He insists on keeping Christmas the year around. As he is
the only child, and they'd give him the moon if they could reach it,
they let him hang up his stocking every night, and every morning there
is a present in it for him."

"Cousin Elizabeth is sp