"Well," said Mr. Ball, slowly turning on his heel, "if you say so,
I suppose she is. But you're going up to the house to-day to see
about her, aren't you?"

"Oh, no," said Euphemia. "We don't intend to go near the house
until our camping is over."

"Just so,--just so," said Mr. Ball; "I expected as much. But look
here, don't you think it would be well for me to ask Dr. Ames to
stop in and see how she is gettin' along? I dare say you've fixed
everything for her, but that would be safer, you know. He's coming
this morning to vaccinate my baby, and he might stop there, just as
well as not, after he has left my house."

Euphemia and I could see no necessity for this proposed visit of
the doctor, but we could not well object to it, and so Mr. Ball
said he would be sure and send him.

After our visitor had gone, the significance of his remarks flashed
on me. He still thought that Pomona was sick with something
catching, and that we were afraid to stay in the house with her.
But I said nothing about this to Euphemia. It would only worry
her, and our vacation was to be a season of unalloyed delight.



CHAPTER X.

WET BLANKETS.