"I'll just have to stay with her," mused Bee replacing the cup on the table, and seating herself by the bed. "She needs some one here to look after her, and I'll have to do it. How queer it is that n.o.body is here!"

The long hot afternoon wore away. The woman's thirst was excessive, and Bee was kept busy ministering to it. As the night approached she sought for a lamp, but could find nothing but a tallow candle with a tin holder.

"It will be awfully dim," she soliloquized, "but it is much better than to sit in the dark. There will be enough light to give her water when she wants it. I wish I knew what else to do for the poor thing."

It was not a pleasant position for a girl to be in, and, as the shadows lengthened in the corners of the cabin, Bee was obliged to summon all her fort.i.tude to face the prospect of a night alone with a very sick woman.

Meantime Adele had hurried to the house as fast as she could go.

"I'll tell Uncle William all about it," she decided, going at once in search of him. "He will know better what to do than Bee does."

But no Uncle William was to be found. Aunt f.a.n.n.y thought he had gone for a walk; so, hot and tired, and somewhat upset by the episode of the afternoon, Adele went up to her cool chamber and threw herself on the bed.

"I'm not going down to that old hut and carry a lot of things," she said aloud peevishly. "Bee ought not to have gone in that place anyway. Mamma wouldn't want me to mix up in such things, I know. So there!"

Arranging the pillows more to her taste she settled herself comfortably among them. She was tired, and presently a delicious drowsiness stole over her, and soon she was fast asleep.

"k.u.m down ter dinnah, child," Aunt f.a.n.n.y roused her by saying. "I'se called, an' called, an' yer didn't answah; so I k.u.m up. Whar's Miss Bee?

You-all's kept dinnah waitin' twel hit am plum dahk. Whar'd you say Miss Bee was?"

"I don't--" Adele looked about her dreamily. "Oh!" as remembrance came to her. She sprang up in a hurry. "Yes; I do. Is Uncle William here?"

"Yes'm; he's heah." Aunt f.a.n.n.y was plainly provoked that dinner had been kept waiting. "He's heah, but he won't set down twel you gals is dere."

For a wonder Adele did not stop to rearrange her hair, but ran down as she was.

"Where is Beatrice?" asked Doctor Raymond, a slight expression of surprise showing itself in his glance. His niece did not usually appear in such a disordered condition. "Aunt f.a.n.n.y could not find her, and said that you were fast asleep in your room. What have you been doing?"

"We went to Rachel's," replied Adele, "and, and--"

"Yes?" remarked he questioningly.

"And she has the small pox. Or, at least," correcting herself hastily, "there was the sign of small pox on the door."

"Is that true, Adele?" Doctor Raymond looked at her searchingly. "Or is that an excuse invented for not going in?"

"It is the truth, Uncle William; but Bee did go in."

"What?" cried Doctor Raymond, springing to his feet. "Do you mean to tell me that, seeing that sign there, you still went in?"

"I didn't, uncle. Bee did. She said that you didn't want to see us again until we could tell you truthfully that we had been to Rachel's; so she said that she must go."

"The foolish girl!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed her father. "Why could not she use judgment? Call her, Adele, while I send Uncle Billy right off for the doctor. We must all be vaccinated, and the house fumigated thoroughly.

It will be a miracle if every darkey on the place doesn't come down with the disease."

"She isn't here, Uncle William." Adele laid a detaining hand on his arm.

"She isn't? Then where is she? She surely did not remain at Rachel's?"

"No; she would not come back here because she was afraid that she might give you and me the small pox. She said that she would go to the old fisherman's hut down by the river, and stay there."

"Beatrice was afraid that she would give it to us, and so would not return here?" repeated the scientist as though he had not heard aright.

"She said that, Adele?"

"Why, yes," answered Adele. Rapidly she related the incident in its entirety, concluding with: "She said that she could have it in the hut, and then we would be safe."

"I'll go right after her," cried he, an unusual warmth in his tone. He started for the door, and again his niece detained him.

"Are you going to bring Bee here to this house after she has been in that cabin?" she asked in horrified tones, her face very white.

"Certainly. She can't stay in an empty hut."

"But, but she might give me the small pox," she whimpered.

"Of course she might," exclaimed her uncle impatiently. "The child can't stay in that place even though she gives it to every one of us. She may have it herself."

"You could take some blankets and pillows down there for her," she suggested eagerly. "That is what she told me to do this afternoon. Then if she does have it she won't have to come back here."

A look of supreme disgust swept over Doctor Raymond's face. Quietly he removed her hand from his arm.

"My daughter will come back here," he said.

"Then I want to go home," sobbed Adele. "Bee herself don't want me to have the small pox, because she kissed me, and said that it would be a pity for me to lose my beauty. And I promised to be good to you, but you are not a bit nice to me. It doesn't matter about her. She said it didn't. You don't care for her anyway. Oh, I want to go home!"

"I think that is the very best place for you," remarked her uncle in a quiet voice. "I will order the carriage as I go out, and Joel will drive you there. If you do not wish to be here when your cousin returns you must be quick about getting away. I am going for her now."

Without another word, or look in her direction he left the room.

A short time later Bee was sitting on the door-step of the cabin trying to get relief from the fetid air of the interior when she heard foot-steps hurrying along the path through the woods which led to the dwelling. Soon someone called:

"Beatrice!"

"Father!" she cried joyfully, starting to her feet.

"I am coming to you." Doctor Raymond's tall figure entered the clearing in which the cabin stood. A sudden thought came to the girl. If he entered the house he might get the dreadful disease. Quick as a flash she darted inside, and closed and locked the door just as he reached the step.

"Beatrice, what does this mean?" asked her father trying the door.

"Father," called Bee, "you must go away. You can't come in. Rachel has the small pox, and if you come in you may get it."

"I do not fear, my daughter. I have come to take you home."

"I can not go, father. Rachel is all alone, and she seems to be awfully sick."

"Isn't Tillie there?"

"No. There is no one here but me."

"Have you been there all afternoon alone with Rachel?"