“Where’s Gracie?  Why didn’t she come?” asked Lulu, with a vague feeling of uneasiness.

“She’s sick,” Max answered, trying to swallow a lump in his throat, and keep the tears from coming into his eyes; “and so is the baby, and the doctor—­Cousin Dick Percival—­says they both have the scarlet-fever in almost its worst form.”

Lulu, who knew something of the deadly nature of the disease, stood speechless with surprise and dismay; the other two girls were crying now.

Presently Lulu burst out vehemently, “I must go home!  I will go!  It’s the cruelest thing in the world to keep me away from my darling Gracie when she’s so sick and may be going to—­oh, I can’t say it!  I can’t bear to think it!” and she began sobbing as if her heart would break.

Evelyn put an arm about her.

“Lu, dear Lu, don’t be so distressed.  The doctor has not said that either case is hopeless; and they may both get well.”

“The dear baby, too!” sobbed Lulu; “oh I do love her, she is such a darling!”

“Indeed she is,” said Max, vainly trying to steady his tones; “and it’s hard to see her suffer.  Gracie, too—­she’s so sweet and patient, and so good.  I heard some of the old servants talking together this morning about her, saying she was just like a little angel, and too good to live; and—­and I’m afraid she is.”

He quite broke down with the last word.

“No, she ain’t,” cried Rosie; “she’s just as good as they think her, but good children are not any more likely to die than bad ones.  Everybody that knew mamma when she was a child says she was as good as she could be, and see how long she has lived.”

“That’s true, and I’m obliged to you for reminding me of it, Rosie,” said Max, looking slightly relieved.

“But I must go home,” repeated Lulu; “Gracie is sure to be wanting me, and I can’t stay away from her.”

“No,” the others said; “none of us are allowed to go into the room for fear of the contagion.  Indeed, we’re not to go back to Viamede, but to stay at either Magnolia Hall or the parsonage till the danger is over.”

“Mamma and Violet are nursing the sick ones, with the help of old Aunt Phillis,” said Rosie.  “Sister Elsie has gone to the parsonage with little Ned, and she and Isa will have to keep away from Viamede on account of their babies; so will Cousin Molly.

“Grandpa telegraphed for Cousin Arthur this morning, because we know he is a skilful physician, and Gracie is begging for her own doctor.”

“I’m glad:  I hope he’ll come quickly,” said Lulu.  “And oh, how I wish papa was here!”

“Yes; we always want papa when we’re in trouble,” said Max; “we can’t help feeling as if he could help us somehow.  But perhaps it’s a very good thing that he’s not here just now to see the children suffer.”

“Oh, are they suffering very much?” Lulu asked tearfully.

“Yes,” answered Rosie; “mamma told me they were both very ill:  Gracie especially—­her head aching badly, her throat distressingly sore, and her fever very high; but that she was sweetly patient under it all.”