"No."

"Very well. But you must promise not to eat those particular things
again. Not even when you get the chance." Then as he saw the woe upon
her face, "At least, not in quantities!"

"Cross my heart!" said Ann, relieved.

"Here's the water," said Mrs. Sykes, returning. "Ann, get right back
into bed. Do you want to get your death? Haven't I told you till I'm
tired to keep your hands in? Is it measles, Doctor? She's subject to
measles. Perhaps it's the beginning of scarlet fever. But if it's
smallpox I want to know. No good ever comes of smoothing things over."

The doctor smiled at Ann.

"It isn't smallpox this time, Mrs. Sykes."

"Did you look at them spots on the back of her neck?"

"Yes. A little rash caused by indigestion. I wouldn't worry."

"Don't mind me. I'm used to worrying. I don't dodge my troubles like
some I know. Indigestion? It looks more like eczema. Eczema is a
terrible trying thing. But if the child's got it I don't want it called
indigestion to spare my feelings."

"But it's not eczema! It's indigestion--and prickly heat. I'm afraid
Ann's stomach has been giving trouble. It has been hotter than is usual
here, I understand. Heat often upsets children. While I write out a