Among them they succeeded in getting her into the house and into a cool
room, where she lay exhausted on the bed, her hand holding tight to the
little hand of her baby, lying wearily beside her.

"Sunstroke?" asked Grandmother.

"Hunger," replied Mr. Emerson, and he and Ethel Brown went down stairs
at once in search of food, while Mrs. Emerson and Ethel Blue managed to
undress their patient and put her into a fresh nightdress and bathe her
face and hands. By the time they had done this and were undressing the
baby, Ethel Brown and Mrs. Emerson's cook were at the door with jellied
broth, milk, gruel and a cooling drink.

Ethel Blue fed the woman, spoonful by spoonful, and Ethel Brown gave
the baby alternate spoonfuls of gruel and milk.

"Sleepy now?" asked Mrs. Emerson when the dark head sank back on the
pillow. "Take a nap, then. See, the baby is right here where you can
lay your hand on her. We'll look in now and then and just as soon as
you wake up you must take some more food."

"Must!" repeated the girl, for she was hardly older than Miss Merriam
they saw when her hair was pushed back from her face. "Must! 'Tis
_glad_ I'll be to be doing it!" and a ghost of a smile fluttered her
lips.

Outside of the bedroom door Mrs. Emerson asked for an explanation and
the others for her advice.

"I don't see how we can tell what we can do until we pull her through