"And she was insensible?"

"Not quite when they brought her in, but then unluckily her wetting
brought on ague again, and she was shivering all night."

"Poor Nina!" and Mrs. Bellairs turned to the miserable pale child, who
looked as if another shivering fit were coming on. "You must make haste
and get better, and come and stay with Flo for a while. We never have
ague."

"You are fortunate," sighed Mrs. Bayne. "I wish that wretched swamp
_could_ be done something to."

"So do I, with all my heart. I must tease William into giving the people
no rest until they do it."

"You will be doing us and our poor neighbours at the shanties no small
service. Ague is dreadfully bad there just now."

A frantic pull at Mrs. Bellairs' hat from the baby interrupted the
conversation, and the visitors rose to go.

When they were once more on the road Mrs. Bellairs turned laughingly to
her companion, "Tell me," she said, "don't you agree with me that a
visit to the Parsonage furnishes a tolerably strong argument in favour
of a clergy such as the Roman Catholic?"

"That is, an unmarried one? Are many of your clergymen's wives like Mrs.
Bayne?"