it will
fly to your throat. I shall have to line you a penny every time you
cross the doorstep without changing your shoes. Summer is over,
remember. You can't be too careful in these raw, damp days. Run
upstairs this minute and change your stockings."

Peggy looked meek, and went to her room at once to obey orders; but the
mischief was done--she shivered, and could not get warm, her head ached,
and her eyes felt heavy. Mrs Asplin looked anxiously at her in the
drawing-room after dinner, and finally called her to her side.

"Peggy, come here! Aren't you well? Let me feel your hand. Child,
it's like a coal! You are in a fever. Why didn't you tell me at once?"

"Because I--really, it's nothing, Mrs Asplin! Don't be worried. I
don't know why I feel so hot. I was shivering only a minute ago."

"Go straight upstairs and take a dose of ammoniated quinine. Turn on
the fire in your room. Max! Robert! Oswald! Esther! Mellicent! will
everyone please look after Peggy in the future, and see that she does
not run out in her slippers!" cried Mrs Asplin in a despairing voice;
and Peggy bolted out of the door, in haste to escape before more
reproaches could be hurled at her head.

But an alarm of a more serious nature than a threatened cold was to take
place before the evening was over. The young people answered briefly,
Mrs Asplin turned back to her book, and silence settled down upon the
occupants of the drawing-room. It was half-past eight, the servants had
carried away the dinner things, and were enjoying their evening's rest
in the kitchen. The vicar was nodding in his easy-chair, the house was
so quiet that the tick of the old grandfather clock in the hall could be
heard through the half-opened door. Then suddenly came the sound of
flying footsteps, the door burst open, and in rushed Peggy once more,--
but such a Peggy, such an apparition of fear, suffering, and terror as
brought a cry of consternation from every lip. Her eyes were starting
from her head, her face was contorted in spasmodic gaspings for breath,
her arms sawed the air like the sails of a windmill, and she flew round
and round the room in a wild, unheeding rush.

"Peggy, my child! my child! what is the matter? Oh, Austin--oh! What
shall we do?" cried Mrs Asplin, trying to catch hold of the flying
arms, only to be waved off with frenzied energy. Mellicent dissolved
into tears and retreated behind the sofa, under the impression that