“TROUBLES never come singly,” said poor Mrs. Kayll as she took her youngest child from Madge’s arms, and looked uneasily at its flushed face. “If he keeps like this, we must send for the doctor. I can’t understand it at all.”

The time was about half-past six in the morning, and Madge had been holding the child while her mother dressed. Both the mother and daughter had had their rest broken by the baby’s fretfulness, as he woke up and cried at intervals the whole night through, and first one, then the other, had risen to walk about with him, trying to soothe him to sleep.

It was with a sinking heart that Madge lighted the fire and set the kettle on to boil before breakfast. Was everything going wrong all at once? But she put on as cheerful an expression as she could, and nobody expected her to be merry, as it was not in her nature.

Everything felt uncomfortable this morning. The girls were to stay away from school, as their mother did not want to spare the money for them, and with Jem there as well the house seemed too full. Besides, both girls were so anxious to be of use that Madge, in hurrying to and fro, tumbled over them in all directions. They dusted the rooms, they made the beds, they came constantly to Madge with the question, “What shall we do next?” till she was nearly distracted. Yet she racked her brains every time for something for them to do, knowing that they would be still more trouble if they were idle. One idle person was bad enough!

“Jem,” said she, as she washed up the breakfast things, “aren’t you going to see after some work?”

Jem, who was sitting on the table swinging his legs to and fro, and looking very dismal, nodded assent.

“Because, you know, if you could earn ever so little, it would be a help; I suppose Mr. Graves would give you a character.”

“Yes, Madgie,” said the boy; “I’m going soon, but I must wait until baby’s better. I can’t go away while he’s so ill.”

“But you won’t do him any good by staying at home.”

“Perhaps not, but I shouldn’t feel satisfied to be away until I know what’s the matter with him. Besides, I might be wanted, you know.”

Madge compressed her lips, feeling more inclined to be angry at what seemed only selfishness, than to admire him, as she usually did, for his affectionate disposition.“Bob and Jack are gone,” said she.

“They were obliged. And I don’t think they mind so much,” was the answer.

The day passed very slowly, and everyone seemed to find it too long. Mrs. Kayll came down, and attended to various duties with the baby always in her arms, as she did not care to part with him, even to Madge.

“He keeps just the same,” she said in the afternoon. “I don’t think he looks any worse.”

Madge caressed the little one’s cheek. She felt half inclined to cry when she saw the small face quiver as if with pain.

“He doesn’t understand it, poor little fellow,” she said. “I think he wonders why we don’t help him, and make him feel well again.”

“It’s a good thing father doesn’t know,” said Jem, who was looking on. “How anxious he would be!”

Meanwhile Mrs. Kayll was turning over a question in her own mind. Should she send for the doctor, or should she wait a little longer? She could not afford to pay him, as it had taken more than she knew how to spare to pay for someone to defend her husband—a matter that she had arranged on the previous day. The lawyer who had taken the case in hand had told her she need be under no anxiety, as all was sure to go well. There would be no difficulty in proving that Mr. Kayll had been arrested in mistake, with the evidence of Mrs. Coleson to show where he had been, and that of Jack to explain his possession of the money, while plenty of people could answer for his being a respectable auctioneer, and the last man in the world to be mixed up in a burglary, so that Mrs. Kayll was as much at ease in her mind on that score as she could be while her husband was still detained.

The evening found no change in the baby. He sat up for a few minutes once or twice, amused by something Bessie brought to attract his attention, but his heavy head soon sank back on his mother’s breast, and he would seldom rouse himself and look round.

Bob came in at his usual time, ate his supper, and then went to Mrs. Kayll with an air of determination.“We can’t let you knock yourself up, old lady,” he said, firmly but gently taking the sick child from her. “You are making yourself ill. Now, sit in the arm-chair and rest—and Madge, get a pillow to make her more comfortable.” And Mrs. Kayll yielded, though she had refused again and again to let Madge relieve her, and dozed off to sleep, while the big, rough boy walked patiently to and fro, to and fro, with his tiny brother cradled in his arms.

The baby seemed fairly comfortable in its new position, and was quiet as long as the regular movement went on. Madge kept the others quiet, and soon sent them to bed, for the poor exhausted mother was now in a sound slumber, and they all felt it a duty not to disturb her rest.

Bob walked on with untiring patience, as one hour crept after another and vanished for ever, refusing Madge’s offers to “take baby,” and trying in a whisper to get her, too, to go to bed. Once or twice he sat down until the child began to be restless, when he went on with his steady pacing as regularly as a machine.It was nearly three when Mrs. Kayll started up, cramped from sleeping in a chair, and looked in a horrified way at the clock.

“You poor children!” she whispered. “Why didn’t you wake me? Poor boy! how tired you look!” And she kissed Bob’s forehead as she relieved him of his burden. “Come, Madge, we will go upstairs, and get what sleep we can.”

Madge followed her, with a new idea making its way into her slow brain. For the first time she was beginning to see what virtues that we never suspect may be hidden under a rough and uncouth appearance, virtues that only come out when there is trouble or care to call them forth.

The next morning was much like this one over again, until breakfast was finished, and the two boys gone. Jem was still lounging about in idleness, when there came a call from above.

“Madge!”

“Yes, mother.”

“Send Jem for the doctor—quick!”

The boy did not wait to be sent, but snatched up his cap and darted off. His sister ran upstairs.

“What is it, mother? Is he worse?”

The baby was still lying quietly on Mrs. Kayll’s lap—not flushed now, but extremely pale. Madge drew near and spoke to him; but though he opened his eyes he did not seem to see her, but gazed out with a curious blank stare.

“Oh, mother!” cried Madge, clasping her hands, “I don’t believe he knows me. Baby, it’s Madge. Baby!”

Mrs. Kayll’s forehead wrinkled itself into upright lines.

“It’s very strange,” she said slowly. “I am getting rather frightened, though I thought at first this morning that he was better.—No, go away, dears,” for Edie and Bessie were peering in at the door. “I am going to keep him very quiet for the present.”

“Mayn’t we come and kiss him, mother?” asked Bessie imploringly.

“Not yet. Not till the doctor has seen him.”

The little girls went unwillingly back to their work, and Madge knelt on the floor by her mother, still trying to attract the little one’s notice, but in vain.

“Do you think it’s some illness—something catching?”

“I can’t tell, dear. It doesn’t look like it.”

They were silent, listening anxiously for Jem’s return.

“You see, Madge, he won’t eat, and he can’t go on like that. He has hardly swallowed any food since the day before yesterday.”

Before long Jem came flying back, scarlet with running, panting, and out of breath.

“Doctor will come as soon as he can,” he told them—“most likely in an hour or so. Can I do anything, mother?”

“Nothing,” she answered, scarcely taking her eyes from the pallid little face. “Nothing but keep quiet, and get the others to be quiet too.”

Very still the house was for the two hours before the arrival of the doctor, for whom all were so anxiously looking. And all the while the baby lay in that listless state, recognizing nobody. The children spoke in hushed voices, and whispered to each other that they wondered what father would say if he knew, and that they did wish he were at home. For the household pet had scarcely had a day’s illness, and had seldom been even what the nurses call “fractious.”

At last. The doctor had come. He was a thin clever-looking young man, who seemed as though he had known all of them since they were born, and who touched Bessie’s soft hair as he passed her on the staircase, and clapped Jem on the shoulder when he let him in.

He was a long time shut in the bed-room with Mrs. Kayll and the baby. The children, waiting about outside, could hear his voice, as he asked a number of questions, followed by their mother’s low-voiced answers. Then, all at once, he came out, and found their four eager faces waiting for him.

“Nothing catching,” he said smiling. “I’m going to send him some physic, and he’ll be ever so much better to-morrow.”