at a thing, but she can
drink all the milk she wants, and occasionally have a little water if
she asks for it. Now remember, Peace. She is too sick to pay attention
to much of anything, but sometimes she is fretful and talks a good deal.
Try to be as quiet as possible yourself,--don't say things to excite
her--don't speak at all unless she wants you to. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"I'll send someone down to relieve you the minute I can get anyone.
Hurry along now, and don't forget what I have said."

"All right," was the cheery response; and Peace, with a curious thrill
of awe in her heart, sped down the hill as fast as her nimble feet could
carry her.

The door of the Fisher house stood open, so, without knocking to make
her presence known, she stepped softly inside the hall, and crept up the
stairs to the little, hot chamber, where thin-faced Annette lay burning
with fever. The invalid was awake, tossing fretfully among her pillows,
but the instant she saw Peace in the doorway her eyes brightened, and
she called in a shrill, weak voice, "Is it really you, Peace, or has my
head turned 'round again?"

"It's really me. Dr. Bainbridge sent me up."

"That's funny. He wouldn't let you or any of the other girls come when I
asked for you before. Did you bring all those flowers for me?"

"Yes," Peace answered readily, glancing down at the huge bouquet in her
arms, which she had entirely forgotten. "Where shall I put them? No,
don't try to tell me; I'll find a dish myself."

"Would you please bring me a drink, too?" Annette asked hesitatingly.

"Sure!"

"Fresh from the well?"

"Yes."

Peace disappeared down the creaking stairs again, returning quickly with
a dripping dipper full of sparkling, ice-cold water from the well, and
the sick child drank feverishly, sighing as she relinquished the cup,
"That's awful good. If only it would stay cold all the time! But the
next time I want a drink it is warm and horrid, and ma says she can't be
always chasing to the well just to get me some water. Harry won't,
either. Pa ain't here but a little while night and morning, and Isabel
is too little to fetch it. Set the flowers here on the chair where I can
see them good. When ma comes home she'll likely throw them out. She says
she can't see the good of cluttering up the house with dishes of weeds
like that."

"Your mother is an old _turnacrank_,--Doctor says so," muttered Peace
indignantly, as she tugged at the heavy jar of