The child gave a sudden delighted giggle.  “I’d go right in over my head, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes.  And next time you were rescued you might feel more inclined to tell your aunt what you had been eating before you became ill.”

Ann stopped giggling.

“You don’t need to tell me,” went on the doctor, “because I know!”

“How d’ye know?”

“Magic.  Be careful—­you were nearly off that time!  Does your aunt know anything about those things you ate?”

“No.”

“Very well.  But you must promise not to eat those particular things again.  Not even when you get the chance.”  Then as he saw the woe upon her face, “At least, not in quantities!”

“Cross my heart!” said Ann, relieved.

“Here’s the water,” said Mrs. Sykes, returning.  “Ann, get right back into bed.  Do you want to get your death?  Haven’t I told you till I’m tired to keep your hands in?  Is it measles, Doctor?  She’s subject to measles.  Perhaps it’s the beginning of scarlet fever.  But if it’s smallpox I want to know.  No good ever comes of smoothing things over.”

The doctor smiled at Ann.

“It isn’t smallpox this time, Mrs. Sykes.”

“Did you look at them spots on the back of her neck?”

“Yes.  A little rash caused by indigestion.  I wouldn’t worry.”

“Don’t mind me.  I’m used to worrying.  I don’t dodge my troubles like some I know.  Indigestion?  It looks more like eczema.  Eczema is a terrible trying thing.  But if the child’s got it I don’t want it called indigestion to spare my feelings.”

“But it’s not eczema!  It’s indigestion—­and prickly heat.  I’m afraid Ann’s stomach has been giving trouble.  It has been hotter than is usual here, I understand.  Heat often upsets children.  While I write out a prescription, you might bathe her face and hands.”

Mrs. Sykes gazed doubtfully at the water.  “She was done once last night and once this morning just before you came in,” she remarked in an injured tone.  “But if you think she needs it again, this sort of water’s no good.  Nothing’s ever any good for Ann except hot water and soap.”

The doctor looked up from his writing in surprise.  Then as the meaning of the thing dawned upon him, he laughed heartily.

“Oh, Ann’s as clean as the veranda floor!” he explained.  “This is just to cool her off.  Let me show you—­doesn’t that feel nice, Ann?”

“Lovely!” blissfully.

Mrs. Sykes sniffed.

“I suppose that’s some new-fangled notion?  I never heard before of cooling people off when they’ve got a fever.  In my time, the hotter you were, the hotter you were made to be, till you got cool naturally.  I suppose,” with half-interested sarcasm, “that you’d give her cold water to drink if she asked for it?”

“Certainly.”

“Well, I expect she knows better than to ask for it!”

Feeling Ann’s imploring gaze, Callandar resorted to diplomacy.