Her habit of saying
'_Must_ I?' when faced with a disagreeable duty, indicates her outlook
on life. If those in authority declare she must, then there is no more
to be said about it. They represent Fate in action. She now yielded
up the custard with a sigh, but obediently drank the mixture I handed
her. There was a pause.
'How are you feeling, dear?' I inquired.
'Quite well, thank you, Mama, dear. May I have my custard now?'
'You ought not to be feeling well,' I said, puzzled. 'You'd better
have some more drops.'
'Oh, must I, Mama?'
'Yes, dear. Drink this.' I now gave her a slightly larger dose.
There was a still longer pause, and Henry, Elizabeth and I waited for
her to speak, or express emotion of some sort. At last she opened her
lips and said, 'May I have----'
'A basin?' inquired Elizabeth, darting forward.
'----my custard, now, if you please, Elizabeth?'
'No,' I said sternly. 'It's very strange that the ipecac, has had no
effect.'
'Try salt and water. There's more about it, like,' remarked Elizabeth.
'I'll fetch some.'
'And hurry,' Henry commanded, 'every moment's delay is making the thing
more serious.'
'Now drink this salt and water, darling,' I urged The Kid when
Elizabeth reappeared.
'Oh, _must_ I, Mama?'
[Illustration: 'Oh, _must_ I, Mama?']
'Yes. Your life depends upon it.'
She drank rather hastily at that.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68