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Show i Shell 1 1 Wilden. as buiiiu-i'v - Had It been anything else" grandiloquently grandilo-quently "anything less repulsive, I would have gone to them myself." "And they are to be left entirely to strangers, with no familiar face beside be-side them?" queries Shell in her even voice. "I don't see any other possible arrangement, ar-rangement, since you have been foolish enough to let Piper forsake her post," answers Ruby, with a sigh. "But I see that some other arrangement arrange-ment is imperative," says Shell decidedly. decid-edly. "It would be too cruel and cow- ardly to leave them to strangers. II you won't go and remain with them tfll the nurse arrives I shall." (To be Continued.) ' from the light. Removing it gently, Shell notes that poor Meg is wan as a white may-blossom even the slight movement sends a convulsive shiver through her little frame. Shell is not one to waste time over speculations. Stooping down, she raises rais-es the sleeping child in her arms, and, telling Bob to follow, proceeds to the farm. At the door she is met by the farmer's wife, a kind, motherly creature, crea-ture, who takes in at a glance Shell's sign to be silent. Mounting to the children's room, which is deserted, she undresses Meg and lays her in her little cot. A few minutes' persuasion and the promise of a fairy tale soon induce Bob to fallow fal-low his sister's example. But Shell has no need to cudgel her brains for the promised legend. No sooner does Bob's head touch the pillow than he, too, sinks into a troubled sleep. Descending to the big flagged kitchen, kitch-en, Shell holds a hurried consultation with the farmer's wife, the result of which is that a boy is despatched for the nearest doctor. Whilst she is waiting his arrival, Piper Pi-per turns up explaining that she has only just been down to the village for a few stamps; she looks much taken aback when she hears of the children's illness and finds that she cannot pooh-pooh pooh-pooh it. After two hours' waiting the doctor comes. He Is an elderly man, genial, reliable and fatherly. Shell and the mistress of the house accompany him to the sick-room. When the three return to the big kitchen there is a scared look on two at least of the faces. "All connection with that part of the house must be cut off, Mrs. Pom-fret, Pom-fret, and a sheet with Condy's fluid hung at the end of the passage. I will telegraph at once to Mr. Champley, if you can furnish me with his address." Piper, looking scared and pale, produces pro-duces the address, and the doctor takes his. departure. " 1 - - CHAPTER XII. (Continued.) Shell's life has been so very uneventful un-eventful during the absence that it does not take long to recount the few small incidents which have broken its monotony. ,, "It was so stupid of you to come, remarks Ruby, during a brief pause In the dialogue going on between Mrs. Wilden and Shell. "I don't suppose we shall any of us be stopping here more than a few days longer." Mrs. Wilden looks surprised. "How so? I have no intention of going home just yet, Ruby," she says a little tartly. "The cottage is taken for two months, and since the rent must be paid, we may as well make the best of our bargain." "There is no best about it," grumbles grum-bles Violet. "No, indeed it is a downright snare and delusion," agrees Ruby. "Since en.vn the Ohampley brothers couldn't stjid it there can be no wonder if we run away." "I don't think they grew tired of the moor," says Shell honestly. "If not, why did they leave it?" demands de-mands her sister defiantly. "Can't say," responds Shell; then, after a pause, she continues "I suppose sup-pose you know that they are going abroad in a few days." "Going abroad!" repeats Ruby, In a tone of positive consternation. "No, I had no idea of. it; I understood that they were merely going back to Champley House." "They are starting for Switzerland In two or three days," says Shtll quietly; quiet-ly; "and I rather fancy they won't be back till autumn." "In that case we may as well stop where we are," observes Ruby, without her ususal caution. "My dear Ruby, their movements cannot in any way affect ours," says Mrs. Wilden, looking puzzled and a trifle shocked. "No, of course not," stammers Ruby, Ru-by, with a momentary fi. h; "only I promised Robert Champley in a way to look after the children! and, since he is going abroad, I should not like to leave them alone on the moor. That nurse is a very illiterate person I doubt if she can write and of course he will want to hear how they are getting on." "Ahem!" ejaculates Violet suggestively, suggest-ively, and then indulges in an amused laugh. Shell does not laugh, but turns with impatient step from the room. "The doctor is not certain," answers Shell in her low sweet voice "but he fears small-pox; it seems there are some cases in the neighborhood." "Small-pox!" shrieks Piper. "And am I expected to stop here and lose my life through nursing children with small-pox? I won't do it no, not for Queen Victoria herself!" "Shame upon you, woman!" cries Mrs. Pomfret wrathfully. "Do you mean to tell me you would have the CHAPTER XIII. "Where are you going, Shell?" asks Ruby, glancing up from an elaborate band of crewel-work, destined to trim a morning-gown. "I am going over to Meadowcroft to superintend Bob's donkey-ride. I promised prom-ised him yesterday I would come." "What folly! You know he is never allowed a donkey-ride unless he has been particularly good; and when I ask Piper if he has been good enough to have one, she invariably answers 'No.' " Shell gives one of those low rippling laughs of hers, which has in it a mocking mock-ing -ring. "Piper does not care for running after donkeys doubtless she considers it infra dig. As she knows that I always al-ways do the running business and leave her free, I invariably hear that the children are deserving of a ride." "Well, it's a bore any way," grumbles grum-bles Ruby. "I wanted you to cut out my collar and cuffs, as I feel inclined for a good day's work." "That won't take five minutes," laughs Shell, stripping off her wash-leather wash-leather gloves and good temperedly setting to the task. When, some twenty minutes later, she arrives at Meadowcrou Farm, she finds the children established in a hay-field hay-field near the house, and Piper nowhere no-where visible. "Where is Piper?" asks Shell, sinking sink-ing down in the fragrant hay. "Busy," answers, Bob, laconically. "Have you been good children good enough for a donkey-ride?" pursues Shell, smiling. heart to go away and leave them poor little babies, with their father away goodness knows where, and their poor mother lying buried? I'd nurse 'em myself, and welcome, only I've got my own children to think of, and I can't be running to and fro to the sick-room with small-pox hanging about my clothes." "Let who will nurse 'em I won't," remarks Piper doggedly. "Do you think I would allow you?" flashes Shell,- her bosom heaving with suppressed scorn and anger. "Do you imagine for one moment that you are fit to be trusted to nurse them?" "You are right there, miss," agrees Mrs. Pomfret; "for she negiects them poor dears, shameful. As for nursing, I wouldn't trust her with a sick cat;" then, turning to the nurse, she continues con-tinues loftily "Take your precious person per-son out of this as soon as may be though who's to attend to them children, chil-dren, I don't know." "Don't trouble yourself about that, Mrs. Pomfret. I will take care of them till a proper nurse is found," says Shell gently. "You mustn't miss it's catching dreadful catching," remonstrates Mrs. Pomfret. "Only when people are afraid," laughs Shell. "I don't feel in the least nervous about illness." '"Cause you haven't seen much," opines Mrs. Pomfret, with a sage head-shake. head-shake. There is general consternation at Gorse Cottage when Shell arrives with her news. "Small-pox! Are you quite sure he said small-pox?" cries Ruby, with a "Don't know," responds Bob, with placid indifference "s'pose not. Piper boxed my ears this morning." "Well, never mind," laughs Shell "since Piper isn't here we can't ask her you shall have your donkey-ride toMay, and then yo'i'll be a good boy tomorrow." "Don't want a donkey-ride," responds re-sponds Bob stolidly; "tell us a story instead." "Not want a donkey-ride? WThy, what sort of a boy do you call yourself?" your-self?" demands Shell, turning the child round to laugh him out of what she imagines to be a fit of the sulks; then she becomes aware that Bob's generally rosy face is pale and languid looking that his bright merry eyes are dim and misty. "Do you feel ill?" asks Shell, thinking think-ing that the child must have been allowed al-lowed to eat something unwholesome. "No-no," falters Bob, with all a boy's reluctance to give in to physical suffering; suf-fering; "only my head aches rather." With a strange thrill at her heart Shell turns to Meg. The little girl is sound asleep" on a soft bed of hay, her attitude betokening thorough lassitude one fat little arm shields her eyes shudder. "How terrible! But surely it can't be small-pox the children must have been vaccinated." "That is the strange point," answers an-swers Shell. "There is no mark whatever what-ever on Meg's arm a very faint one on Bob's. The doctor says he can't be sure for another twenty-four hours. They ought to have been in bed two days ago they do nothing but shiver and shiver and shiver." "What is to be done?" asks Ruby blankly; and then, a bright idea suggesting sug-gesting itself "We must telegraph at once to London for an experienced nurse." "And who is to nurse them till she arrives?" "Piper, of course." "Piper has flown by this time. I left her packing her box." "How disgraceful of her! However Mrs. Pomfret must get some one to see to them." "Robert Champley told me that you had promised to see to them during his absence." "How utterly absurd and unpractical you are. Shell! Of course I am very sorry for the darling children; hut-I can't possibly risk such a catastrophe |