em all crowing and choking, and holding on to the
table, and scolding--how Serry did scold sometimes--over it, I felt as
if I was going to start coughing and whooping too-- I did, I give you
my word. But I just _wouldn't_. I said to myself it was all fancy and
nonsense--though I don't a bit believe it was--and I drank some water,
and got all right again. And after a week or two, the catchy feeling in
my throat went off.

It was a good thing I kept well, for mums did need some comfort. The
worst of it didn't come for a good while--that's the tiresome part of
the whooping-cough, you never know where you are with it, it lasts such
a time; and when you think it's about over, very often you find children
have got some other illness from it--I mean something the matter with
their chests or throats, or bothers like that.

It was Maud that got it first, and seemed the worst for a good while;
but then she took a turn and got hungry again, and the doctor began to
speak of our soon going away somewhere for change of air; and we were
getting jollier, and mums looking less worried, when all at once Hebe
got very bad indeed. It was partly her own fault, though she hadn't
meant it. She had been feeling very ill indeed, but she didn't like to
say so, for she thought most likely the others felt just as bad, and you
know she's dreadfully unselfish. Often and often she'd get up in the
middle of the night if Serry called out she was thirsty or
anything--very often it was only that she fancied the clothes were
slipping off, or some nonsense like that--and Hebe may have caught cold
by that. Anyway, there came one morning that poor Hebe couldn't get up
at all; indeed, she could scarcely speak. We all ran in to see what was
the matter, and she just smiled a tiny little smile, and put out her
poor little hand--it was burning hot--and whispered, 'I daresay I'll be
better soon.'

Nurse was frightened; but she's very good and sensible. She just told me
to go down to mother's room and ask her to come up, as Hebe had had a
bad night, and perhaps we'd better send for the doctor to come early.
And, of course, I knew how to do it without startling mums more than
could be helped.

All the same, if she had been dreadfully startled it couldn't have been
worse than had to be. For it was the beginning of Hebe's being awfully
ill. I can't tell you properly what it was; it was something about her
lungs, so bad that she was wrapped in blankets and carried