"I am sorry to disturb you, Antony," she said, noting with a pang how
the lamp had been arranged to throw a vivid light upon Silencieux, "but
I want you to come down and look at Wonder. I'm afraid she is ill."
"Wonder, ill!" exclaimed Antony, rising with a start, "I will come at
once;" and they went together.
Wonder was lying in her bed, with flushed cheeks and bright yet heavy
eyes.
"Wonder, my little Wonder," said Antony caressingly, as he bent over
her. "Does little Wonder feel ill?"
"Yes, Daddy. I feel so sick, Daddy."
"Never mind; she will be better to-morrow." But he had noticed how
burning hot were her hands, and how dry were her fresh little lips.
"I must go for the doctor at once," he said to his wife, when they were
outside the room. The father, so long asleep, had sprung awake at the
first hint of danger to the little child that in his neglectful way he
loved deeply all the time; and, in spite of the danger to Wonder, a
faint joy stirred in Beatrice's heart to see him thus humanly aroused
once more.
"Kiss me, Beatrice," he said, as he set out upon his errand.
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