"Oh, no. I asked Doctor Tressider, and he thinks it is simply a little stomach trouble. To-morrow she'll be better," was the woman's reply.
So Ena ascended the stairs, and, after tapping at the door, entered the neat little bedroom on the second floor.
"Well, dear!" she exclaimed cheerily as she entered. "I couldn't let the day pass without coming to see you. Whatever is the matter?"
"I really don't know, Ena," replied Mrs. Morrison of Carsphairn. "I felt so ill in the train coming up to Victoria that I had great difficulty in getting back here."
"But the doctor says you'll be all right to-morrow," said Ena.
"I feel awfully ill," replied the other feebly. "I seem so feverish--hot at one moment and cold at another."
"No, no," said Mrs. Pollen cheerily. "You'll be all right, never fear. When one feels feverish one's temperature is generally below normal. I do hope these people are looking after you all right?"
"Oh, yes, they do. I have no complaint to make on that score. You recommended me here, and I must say that I'm most comfortable. But what worries me is my visit up North."
"Don't bother about that," laughed the other. "Get well first. Write and tell them you can't come."
"I wish you would do it for me. Pen and paper are over there," said the sick woman, whose eyes glistened strangely.
"No; you must do it," replied Ena quickly. She had a reason. "If I were to write to them they might think it strange. You are not too ill to write. I'll get you the pad."
And, carrying it to her on the bed, she induced Mrs. Morrison to write two letters to her friends--letters which she duly posted when she got outside.
"The doctor doesn't seem to know what is the matter with me," the invalid said in a weak voice after she had laid down her fountain pen. "My head is so terribly bad--and my throat too."
"My dear, it's only a chill," Ena said with comforting cheerfulness. "You'll be all right in a day or two. You've been in a draught, perhaps."
"Ah! but my head! It seems as though it must burst. At times I can't think. All my senses seem blurred."
"Yes. And it seemed to puzzle him more than ever. I hope I'm not going to have a bad illness."
"Of course not," laughed Ena. "You'll be better in a day or so. Remain quiet, and I'll run in to-morrow morning to see how you are. If you're worse, tell them to ring me up. I'm just going round to the Davidsons. They will be most distressed to hear of your sudden illness."