But they would not go.  How could they, with only an hour left?  They subdued their voices, and ran whispering about.  Jeff held a long conference in an undertone with his mother.  Justin perched on the arm of her chair, with his head on her shoulder, and she would not have him taken away, her own heart sick within her at thought of the long absence from them all.  Altogether, when one took into account the preceding fortnight of making ready for the trip, it was not strange that in this last hour of preparation she gave out entirely.

The first they knew of it was when Mr. Birch, with a low exclamation, sprang across the room, and catching up his wife in his arms, carried her to a couch.

“Water!” he said.  “And open the window!”

Startled, they obeyed him.  It was only a brief unconsciousness, and the lovely brown eyes when they unclosed were as full of bravery as ever, but Mr. Birch spoke anxiously to Lansing in the hall outside.

“I don’t like to start with her, as worn-out as this,” he said.  “Yet everything is engaged—­the state-room and all—­and I don’t want to delay without reason.  There’s not time to send to the city for Doctor Forester.  Suppose you telephone Doctor Ridgway to come around and tell us what to do about starting.  If he is out, try Sears or Barton.  Have him hurry.  We’ve barely forty-five minutes now.”

In three minutes Lansing came back and beckoned his father out of the room.

“They’re all out,” he said, “I tried old Doctor Hitchcock, too, but he’s sick in bed.  How about that new doctor that’s just moved in next door?  I like his looks.  He certainly will know enough to advise about this.”

Mr. Birch hesitated a moment.  “Well, call him,” he decided.

Lansing was already down the stairs.  Three minutes later he returned with the young doctor.  Mr. Birch met them in the hall.

“Doctor Churchill, father.”  Mr. Birch looked keenly into a pair of eyes whose steady glance gave him instantly the feeling that here was a man to trust.

The young people waited impatiently outside while Doctor Churchill spent fifteen quiet minutes with their father and mother.  When Mr. Birch came to the door again with the physician, he was looking relieved.

Doctor Churchill paused before the little group, his eyes glancing kindly at each in turn, as he spoke to Lansing.  He certainly was young but there was about him an air of quiet confidence and decision which one felt instinctively would be justified by further acquaintance.

“Don’t be anxious,” he said.  “All this hurry of preparation has been a severe test on her, taken with her reluctance to leave her home.  She is feeling stronger now, and it will be better for her to get the leave-taking over than to postpone and dread it longer.  You will all make it easy for her—­No breakdowns,” he cautioned, with a smile.  “New Mexico is a great place, and you are doing the best thing in the world in getting her off before cold weather.”