CHAPTER XIX
SYMPTOMS OF MEASLES
“Jane,” said Christopher to his sister three days later, “a week is anawfully short time.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Jane.
She knew that when Christopher began to speak in that tone he had,something in particular to say.
“I mean that in a week mother and father will be here and——”
“A week isn’t a short time to wait to see them when we haven’t seen themfor a long, long summer,” interrupted Jane indignantly.
“Well, it’s a short time when it’s all we’ve got left of staying here,isn’t it?” retorted Christopher.
Jane’s face lengthened. She had not thought of that side of thequestion.
“Do you think they are going to take us right straight home?” she askedslowly.
“Why, of course. Father’s been away from his business so long that he’lljust have to get back to it. I know enough to know that,” repliedChristopher in his most exasperatingly superior tone.
But Jane was too deep in her own thoughts to be provoked. She was tryingto understand the queer feeling that Christopher’s words brought to herheart. Surely she was not sorry that her father and mother were cominghome? Oh, no, the thump her heart gave told her that that was not thereason. But it would be hard to leave grandfather and grandmother,Huldah and the puppies!
“Don’t you think they’ll let us stay a little longer?” she repeated.“School doesn’t begin for almost another month.”
“I don’t know. But if one of us was ill, we’d have to stay longer,wouldn’t we?”
“Why, yes, of course. But then it wouldn’t be any fun. Besides neitherof us is ill or anything like it.”
“It is fun to be ill if you’re not so very bad,” said Christopher,answering the first half of Jane’s sentence. “Why, when Edward Hammondhad the measles—do you remember?—he had lots of fun. He had to stay inbed a few days, but he didn’t mind that ’cause his mother read himstories and he got lots of presents.”
“Did he? Well, I guess mother’ll bring us a present.”
“And nice things to eat,” went on Christopher. “It was really greatsport being ill.”
Jane eyed her brother suspiciously.
“Kit Baker, what’s the matter? What do you mean? Why are you talkingsuch a lot about Edward Hammond having the measles? It all happened overa year ago anyhow, and he’s as well as you or I, now.”
“It wasn’t Edward I was thinking so much about as the measles.”
Jane turned.
“What about the measles? You don’t think you’re getting them, do you?Have you been exposed?”
“You don’t have to be exposed to get the measles.”
“Oh, but you do, I know. Else why is mother always so careful to keep usaway from any one who has measles?”
“Oh, I suppose you can catch them from somebody else, but you can getthem without being exposed, too, because Edward’s mother said he hadn’tbeen exposed, so there.”
“She said she couldn’t find out that he’d been exposed,” corrected Jane.“But I’d like to know what difference it makes now, Kit Baker. Do youfeel as if you were getting the measles?”
“Not exactly, only—why, don’t you see? If one of us was to get themeasles, we couldn’t go back to town so soon. And whichever one of ushad ’em would have a bully time, with presents and sweetbreads andthings,” he added hastily, as if offering an inducement.
Jane considered. She felt sure that there was something behindChristopher’s words—something he was trying to make her understand; butshe could not make out what it was.
“Well, anyway,” she announced finally, “I haven’t the measles, noranything else. I don’t know about you, but if you are coming down withanything you’ll have plenty of time to get over it before we go home.”
Which practical speech ended the conversation for the present.
Whatever Christopher’s deep-laid schemes were, he decided that the timewas not yet ripe to unfold them. Then, too, there might be no necessity.He would wait and see.
But immediately after breakfast, two days before the steamship “Metric”was due to arrive in New York, he came upon his grandparents as theywere ending a private consultation. Christopher overheard grandmothersay:
“It will have to be Monday, then, two days after they get here.”
The words set Christopher thinking. As usually happens when oneoverhears something intended for other ears, he misunderstoodgrandmother’s meaning and jumped to the conclusion that the Monday towhich grandmother referred was the day set for their return to the city.To leave Sunnycrest and all its joys, the freedom, the open air, countrylife! To leave on Monday and this was Thursday! Clearly there was notime to be lost. He rushed off to find Jane, carried her to the mostremote corner of the orchard and there they sat a good hour or more,quite beyond the reach of ears, however sharp, but showing, had any onebeen interested enough to watch, that the topic under discussion wasvery weighty—and with two sides to it, to judge from Jane’s determinedattitude and Christopher’s of persuasion.
It had been arranged that grandfather and grandmother were to go to thecity on Friday afternoon, sleep there overnight, meet the ship which wasto dock very early in the morning and bring the twins’ parents back withthem to Sunnycrest on Saturday.
Grandmother, who believed in being punctual always, had already packedher bag and was in readiness for the journey quite soon after breakfast,although they did not have to start until after an earlier dinner thanusual.
But shortly after eleven o’clock Jane came into the house looking verymuch flushed and complained of not feeling well. Even as she spoke, sheturned white and became very ill. Christopher, who had followed her tothe door of grandmother’s room, looked on with deep concern.
“Why, Kit,” exclaimed grandmother, “what have you and Janey been doing?”
“Playing,” answered Christopher briefly. He seemed to have lost hisusual too-ready tongue. “We were just playing.”
“Was Janey swinging in the hammock or anything that could have made herso seasick?”
“We weren’t near the hammock,” answered Christopher frankly. “Are yougoing to send for the doctor, grandmother?”
“I hope it won’t be necessary,” replied grandmother anxiously. “Pleaseask Huldah to come up-stairs, Kit. I’ll get Janey to bed.”
Jane appeared so limp and miserable that grandmother decided (greatly toher secret disappointment) to give up her journey to town and stay athome with her, letting grandfather go by himself.
“And it will be a melancholy meeting with such anxious news for thechildren’s father and mother,” she added regretfully.
“Oh, Jane’s not as ill as that,” expostulated Christopher.“She’s—she’s—it’ll just keep us from going home so soon, perhaps, butthat’s all. You go ahead to town, grandmother. I’ll take care ofJaney—me and Huldah. And perhaps Letty’ll come out and read to us.”
“Oh, I should be afraid to let Letty come until I know what the matteris. Janey may be coming down with something. It is most distressing, andDr. Greene is away up country and won’t be back to-night.”
And grandmother, cheerful, serene grandmother, actually cried a little.But then you see, she was both worried about Jane’s sudden, somewhatmysterious illness, and disappointed that she should have suchdistressing news to give the children’s mother just at this last momentwhen everything had gone so beautifully all summer long.
“Don’t you think you’d better go?” urged grandfather. He, too, wasdisappointed, for he and grandmother rarely traveled and always enjoyedtheir little excursions together. “Don’t you think Janey’s mother mightworry more than she need if you stay behind? She will think it moreserious than it really is.”
“It is serious enough to make me unwilling to leave Janey,” answeredgrandmother positively. “I should worry every single instant if I wereaway from her. I could not stand it, not knowing how she is ever
yminute. With her symptoms she might be coming down with almostanything.”
“But I don’t think she’s very ill,” put in Christopher again. “You justtell father and mother she’ll be all right in a week or two if they——”
“In a week or two!” exclaimed grandmother, looking ready to cry again.“I hope it is not going to be so long an illness as that!”
Christopher blushed and hung his head, while grandfather again urged thewisdom of going to town together as they had originally planned. Butgrandmother was firm. She changed her dress and went back to Jane’sroom. Jane set up a wail when she heard that grandmother was to remainat home.
“I am not ill, grandmother, not a bit!” she moaned. “I—I——”
“Be careful, Jane,” called Christopher from the doorway of his own room.“You’ll—you’ll get sick again.”
Jane dropped back in bed and began to cry. Grandmother knelt down anddid her best to comfort her, but Jane sobbed on quite heedlessly.
Grandfather and Christopher had to sit down to dinner alone, asgrandmother would not leave Jane and grandfather could not wait or hewould miss his train. It was rather a melancholy meal. Grandfather atehardly anything and even Christopher’s appetite failed. He watched hisgrandfather off and rode on the step of the carriage as far as the gate,but he did not ask permission to go all the way to Hammersmith, for thesake of the ride, as grandfather and Joshua had both expected him to do.
“The boy seems quite unlike himself,” grandfather remarked to Joshua asthey drove away. “He takes Janey’s illness very much to heart.”
“I always agreed there was a lot of character in that boy,” repliedJoshua heartily.
Christopher was told, when he got back to the house, that Jane wasasleep and must on no account be disturbed, so he tiptoed disconsolatelyaway and cast about for something to do. He began to be sorry he had notasked leave to ride into the village.
At about five o’clock grandmother called him. Jane was awake and feelingever so much better—almost like herself in fact. Would Christopher sitwith her a short time while grandmother went to her own room?
Jane, who had been sitting up in bed playing quite happily with herpaper dolls, dropped back on her pillow when Christopher came in andturning her back, refused to speak to him. Grandmother had already leftthe room.
“Sit up, Jane,” commanded Christopher, closing the door and drawing asmall black lacquered box from his pocket.
“I won’t,” said Jane flatly. “You are a horrid, wicked boy and I don’tlike you.”
“But you promised.”
“You spoiled grandmother’s trip to town and mother’ll be scared ’most todeath when she hears I’m too ill to let grandmother go.”
“I can’t help that. I didn’t know grandmother would stay home when itwasn’t necessary, and you promised——”
“Grandmother is so disappointed she wants to cry all the time,” went onJane, her lip quivering.
“You promised!” Christopher’s tone was growing threatening. “Hurry up.There isn’t much time.”
“I don’t care,” said Jane defiantly.
“Jane Baker! Do you mean to say you are going to break your promise?”
This was attacking Jane’s vulnerable spot, for she prided herself uponalways keeping her word. She sat up in bed.
“But if it’s a wrong promise?” she asserted weakly.
“It’s the same promise as when you made it,” announced Christopher withcalm conviction, and he approached the bed with the small box in hishand.
Grandmother completed her afternoon toilet in something of a hurry, forshe thought she heard sounds in Jane’s room.
“What is it?” she asked a little anxiously, appearing in the doorwayjust as Christopher opened the door from within.
“Nothing,” he answered. “I was just helping Janey get—get fixed.”
Grandmother glanced at Jane, lying flat on her pillow, her face turnedaway.
“Don’t you feel as well, Janey?” she asked tenderly, crossing to thebedside quickly.
Jane shook her head without speaking. She was white about the lips buther face looked red and blotched. Grandmother lifted one of the littlehands; it felt hot and feverish. Huldah entered just then with adaintily arrayed supper tray but Jane pushed it aside with a shudder.
“I am afraid it is measles,” grandmother said in a low tone aside toHuldah. “She is sick again and see how flushed and broken out her facelooks. We’d best send Kit away somewhere.”
“He can go down to the farmhouse,” replied Huldah promptly. “Joshua willsee to him. I’m going to stay up here nights until the child’s better.Where could the precious lamb have caught the measles? I don’t know of acase for miles around.”
Mrs. Baker spent an anxious night for Jane tossed and moaned in hersleep in a distressful way. Several messages had been sent to the doctorand grandmother had also sent Jo Perkins into Hammersmith with a note toMrs. Hartwell-Jones, to tell her of the sudden illness and to warn Lettyagainst coming out to Sunnycrest for fear of contagion. Such a drearyhome-coming it promised to be for the returned travelers!
Christopher was decidedly taken aback by his banishment. He had notcounted on anything of that sort and remonstrated vigorously.
“If it is measles, I don’t see the use in sending me away now,” heargued. “I guess the harm’s already done.”
But grandmother was determined to take no risks and sent Christopher offwith a hand-bag.
Toward morning Jane became quieter and grandmother fell into anexhausted sleep. When Jane woke, she tiptoed softly into the bath-room,went through her morning bath and got back into bed again withoutdisturbing her grandmother. The blotchy flush had entirely left her faceand she looked and acted perfectly well. Indeed, she appeared quite likeher usual self, except for a certain look of unhappiness which even thethought of her mother’s coming could not banish from her chubby face.
Grandmother was surprised to see this sudden change for the better, whenshe finally awoke, and she sent Jo Perkins speeding again into thevillage with a telegram to grandfather. But she decided to take nochances until Dr. Greene had come and pronounced the danger of measlesreally past, so Christopher was still held in quarantine at thefarmhouse at the foot of the hill.
The doctor was late and took his departure only just before the arrivalof the travelers. He had been puzzled by Jane’s symptoms.
“There were evidences of an upset stomach,” he said, “but not enough tohave caused fever and a breaking out.”
She might get up and dress, he added as he left, and such a scrambleJane had to get into her clothes in time, with one eye on the clock! Butshe succeeded, and was the first to rush into her dear, dear mother’sarms.
What a day of jubilation it was! What wonderful tales of travel! Whatwonderful presents! But through it all there was something not quitenatural about the behavior of the children. Christopher’s cheerfulnesswas a little overdone. The look of unhappiness still lurked in thedepths of Jane’s eyes and she very pointedly avoided her brother.
“If grandmother had not assured me to the contrary, I should say thechildren were suffering from a guilty conscience,” said Mr. ChristopherBaker, Jr., to his wife.
“Yes,” she agreed. “And Janey appears on the eve of confession. I havenoticed two or three times that she has been on the point of telling mesomething and Kit has stopped her. Do you suppose there can be somethingbehind her illness?”
After supper the family were assembled on the veranda, and Mrs. Baker,Jr., or “Mrs. Kit” as she was generally called—asked about Letty.
“We know how interested you both must be in Mrs. Hartwell-Jones andLetty,” replied grandmother, “and so we have planned to invite them toSunnycrest to spend a week. They are to come on Monday.”
Jane and Christopher exchanged sudden, startled looks.
“Aren’t we going home on Monday?” demanded Christopher.
“No, my boy. I have a ten days’ holiday and we are go
ing to spend ithere, all together,” answered his father.
Jane burst into tears.
“Now, Jane!” whispered Christopher fiercely, and reached out a hand toclutch Jane’s skirts.
But she was too quick for him and sprang to the shelter of her mother’sarms.
“Oh, we needn’t have done it! We needn’t have done it!” she wailed.
Everybody was unspeakably astonished except Christopher, who grew veryred in the dusk, squirmed about on his chair, finally rose and mutteringsomething about “girls being such softies,” ran into the house.
“Oh, mother,” sobbed Jane, “come over here.”
She drew her mother apart and made her sit down. Then standing besideher, the dear mother-shoulder ready to hide a shamed face, she whisperedher story:
“Kit and I thought you and father were going to take us right back hometo the city, and we didn’t want to go, and Kit said if one of us was illor something, that we couldn’t go so soon, so he—he made me promise andwe—I ate a lot of mushy bread and milk and drank some warm water and Kitwhirled me till I was dizzy and—and grandmother put me to bed; then Kitcame up and painted my face out of our water-color box and whirled meagain and grandmother thought it was measles. She was scared and shecried because she had to give up her trip to the city with grandfatherto meet you and mother—oh, mother, I’m so mis’rable! And I have brokenmy promise to Kit, too, ’cause I promised him not to tell!”
The halting, sobbing whisper ceased and Jane, in an agony of weeping,buried her head in her mother’s breast.
“Why, Jane!” exclaimed her mother. “Why, Janey!”
After the scolding, the sermon and the punishment were over and thechildren had been sent forgiven to bed, the four grown-ups went out ontothe veranda again. It was a soft, balmy night, with no hint of thecoming autumn in the air. The stars twinkled good-humoredly.
Grandmother, grandfather, mother and father all looked at one anotherfor a moment; then—I am sorry to say that then they laughed; laugheduntil the tears rolled down their cheeks and they had to sit down tokeep from tipping over.
But of course Jane and Christopher never knew that.