--that is often so with a fever case."

"One moment," said Hester. She turned again to the little crib.

"Hetty is going to fetch Annie for Nan. Will Nan give her own Hetty one
kiss?"

Instantly the little arms were flung round Hester's neck.

"Me like 'oo now, dood Hetty. Go for Annie, dood Hetty."

Instantly Hester ran out of the room. She flew quickly down the long
passage, and did not know what a strange little figure she made as the
moon from a large window at one end fell full upon her. So eerie, so
ghost-like was her appearance as she flew noiselessly with her bare feet
along the passage that some one--Hester did not know whom--gave a stifled
cry. The cry seemed to come from a good way off, and Hester was too
preoccupied to notice it. She darted into the room where Susan Drummond
and Annie Forest slept.

"Annie, you are to come to Nan," she said in a sharp high-pitched voice
which she scarcely recognized as her own.

"Coming," said Annie, and she walked instantly to the door with her dress
on and stood in the moonlight.

"You are dressed!" said Hester in astonishment.

"I could not undress--I lay down as I was. I fancied I heard Nan's voice
calling me. I guessed I should be sent for."

"Well, come now," said Hester in her hardest tones. "You were only sent
for because Nan must be quieted at any risk. Come and see if you can
quiet her. I don't suppose," with a bitter laugh "that you will succeed."

"I think so," replied Annie, in a very soft and gentle tone.

She walked back by Hester's side and entered the sick-room. She walked
straight up to the little cot and knelt down by Nan, and said, in that
strangely melodious voice of hers:

"Little darling, Annie has come."

"Me like 'oo," said Nan with a satisfied coo in her voice, and she turned
round on her side with her back to Miss Danesbury and Hester and her eyes
fixed on Annie.

"Sing 'Four-and-twenty,' Annie; sing 'Four-and-twenty,'" she said
presently.

"Four-and-twenty blackbirds baked in a pie," sang Annie in a low clear
voice, without a moment's hesitation. She went through the old nursery
rhyme once--twice. Then Nan interrupted her fretfully:

"Me don't want dat 'dain; sing 'Boy Blue,' Annie."

Annie sang.

"'Tree Little Kittens,' Annie," interrupted the little voice presently.

For more than two hours Annie knelt by the child, singing nursery rhyme
after nursery rhyme, while the bright beautiful eyes were fixed on her
face, and the