end
you up a nurse. Luckily I've a good one free--and she will bring
medicines and will know all I want done." He nodded approval of their
plans for Alison and Michael. Mr. Linton accompanied him to his car.

"Get your daughter away as soon as you can," the doctor said. "It's a
beastly species of fever; I'd like to hang those tinkers. The child
in the village died this afternoon."

"You don't say so!" Mr. Linton exclaimed.

"Yes; very bad case from the first. Fine boy, too--but they didn't
call me in time. Well, this village had forgotten all about fever."
He jumped into the car. "I'll be up in the morning," he said; and
whirred off into the darkness.

Alison and Michael, enormously amused at what they took to be a new
game, were presently bundled up in blankets and carried across to
Homewood; and soon a cab trundled up with a brisk, capable-looking
nurse, who at once took command in Geoffrey's room.

"I don't think you should stay," she said to Norah. "The maid and I
can do everything for him--and his mother will be home to-morrow. A
good hot bath, with some disinfectant in it, here; then leave all your
clothes here that you've worn near the patient, and run home in fresh
things. No risk for you then."

"I couldn't leave Geoff," Norah said. "Of course I won't interfere
with you; but his mother left him to me while she was away. And he
might ask for me."

"Well, it's only for your own sake I was advising you," said the
nurse. "What do you think, Mr. Linton?"

"I think she ought to stay," said David Linton shortly--with fear
tugging at his heart as he spoke. "Just make her take precautions, if
there are any; but the child comes first--he was left in our care."

He went away soon, holding Norah very tightly to him for a moment; and
then the nurse sent Norah to bed.

"There's nothing for you to do," she said. "I shall have a sleep near
the patient."

"But you'll call me if he wants me?"

"Yes--I promise. Now be off with you."

At the moment Norah did not feel as though she could possibly sleep;
but very soon her eyes grew heavy and she dozed off to dream, as she
often dreamed, that she and Jim were riding over the Far Plain at
Billabong, bringing in a mob of wild young bullocks. The cattle had
never learned to drive, and broke back constantly towards the shelter
of the timber behind them. There was one big red beast, in
particular, that would not go quietly; she had half a dozen gallops