“Don’t be alarmed, madam,” said the doctor, “there is nothing serious in this fever.  It will soon subside.”

Mrs. Marvel shook her head.

“It’s the scarlet fever, doctor, I know it is!” said she, passionately, bursting into tears.

“Let me beg of you, madam, not to distress yourself.  I assure you there is no danger!”

“So you said last night, doctor; and just see how much worse he is getting!”

As Dr. Elton was generally a man of few words, he said no more, but wrote a prescription, and went away, promising, however, at the earnest request of Mrs. Marvel, to call again that night.

About nine o’clock he called in, and found Charley’s fever in no degree abated.  Mrs. Marvel was in tears, and her husband pacing the floor in a state of great uneasiness.

“O doctor, he’ll die, I’m sure he’ll die!” said Mrs. Marvel, weeping bitterly.

“Don’t be alarmed, my dear madam,” replied the doctor.  “I assure you it is nothing serious.”

“Oh, I’m ’sure it’s the scarlet fever!  It’s all about now.”

“No, madam, I am in earnest when I tell you it is nothing of the kind.  His throat is not in the least sore.”

“Yes, doctor, it is sore!”

“How do you know?” responded the doctor, examining Charley’s mouth and throat, which showed not the least symptom of any irritation of the mucous membrane.  “It can’t be sore from any serious cause.  Some trifling swelling of the glands is all that can occasion it, if any exist.”

Thus assured, and in a positive manner, Mrs. Marvel’s alarm in some degree abated, and after ordering a warm bath, the doctor retired.

About three o’clock the doctor was again sent for in great haste.  On entering the chamber of his little patient, he found his fever all gone, and he in a pleasant sleep.

“What do you think of him, doctor?” asked Mrs. Marvel, in a low, anxious whisper.

“I think he’s doing as well as he can.”

“But a’n’t it strange, doctor, that he should breathe so low?  He looks so pale, and lays so quiet!  Are you sure he’s not dying?”

“Dying!” exclaimed Dr. Elton,—­“he’s no more dying than you are!  Really, Mrs. Marvel, yon torment yourself with unnecessary fears!  Nature is only a little exhausted from struggling with the fever, he will be like a new person by morning.”

“Do not mistake the case, doctor, for we are very much concerned,” said Mr. Marvel.

“I do assure you, sir, that I understand the case precisely; and you must believe me, when I tell you that no patient was ever in a better way than your little boy.”

Next morning, among other charges made by Dr. Elton, were two against Mr. Marvel, as follows:  To four visits to son, $4. To one night-visit to son, $5.

“Not a bad customer!” said the doctor, with a smile, as he ran up the whole account, and then closed the book.