“It will smell some, but what of that?  You can endure a great deal in order to feel safe,” Flossie replied.

Neil could endure a great deal where his personal safety was concerned, and wholly deceived by Flossie’s manner, he submitted to the burnt matches, which nearly strangled him, and brought on so violent a fit of coughing as made him fear lest he should burst a blood-vessel.

“I guess you are all right as far as the kiss is concerned,” Flossie said, nearly bursting with merriment.  “And now for the leek and camphor.  I’ll fix it for you.”

He found the leek and the camphor and Flossie tied them up for him in a bit of linen and bade him be quite easy in his mind, as with these disinfectants he was impervious to the plague itself.

“What a coward he is, to be sure!” she said, as she watched him hurrying down the hall to his room with his disinfectants.  “Sir Jack told me he was a milksop and not half worthy of Bessie, and he was right.  I think him an idiot.  Leeks, indeed!  Won’t he smell, though, when the leek gets warmed through and begins to fume!  Phew!” and the little nose went up higher than its wont as Flossie returned to the sick-room.

That night Neil wrote to his mother the exact condition of affairs, telling her how he had found his aunt and cousin, whom he could not leave without being stigmatized as a brute; telling her what Grey had done for them; telling her that they owed old Mrs. Meredith twenty pounds, and that unless she wished a subscription paper to be started for them in the hotel, among the English, many of whom were her acquaintances, she must send money to relieve their necessities, and pay their bills.  Neil felt almost sure that this last would touch his mother, when nothing else could reach her, and he was right.  Neither she nor her husband cared to have their friends contribute to the needs of any one who bore their name, and the letter which Lady Jane sent to her son contained sixty pounds, which she bade him use to the best possible advantage, adding that he was to leave Rome as soon as he could, with any show of decency.  This, Neil would gladly have done if he could, but when his mother’s letter arrived it found him plunged into a complication of difficulties from which he could not extricate himself.  Daisy had suddenly been stricken down with the fever, which developed so rapidly and assumed so violent a form that Neil’s strength, and courage, and patience were taxed to the utmost, and he might have succumbed entirely, if it had not been for Flossie, who was equal to any emergency, and who resisted all her grandmother’s efforts to get her out of the fever-hole, as she designated the hotel.