Then she began to cry, but suddenly exclaimed:

"The doctor must have sent medicines!"

I said:

"Certainly. They are here. I was only waiting for you to give me a
chance."

"Well do give them to me! Don't you know that every moment is precious
now? But what was the use in sending medicines, when he knows that the
disease is incurable?"

I said that while there was life there was hope.

"Hope! Mortimer, you know no more what you are talking about than the
child unborn. If you would--As I live, the directions say give one
teaspoonful once an hour! Once an hour!--as if we had a whole year
before us to save the child in! Mortimer, please hurry. Give the poor
perishing thing a tablespoonful, and try to be quick!"

"Why, my dear, a tablespoonful might--"

"Don't drive me frantic! . . . There, there, there, my precious, my
own; it's nasty bitter stuff, but it's good for Nelly--good for mother's
precious darling; and it will make her well. There, there, there, put
the little head on mamma's breast and go to sleep, and pretty soon--oh,
I know she can't live till morning! Mortimer, a tablespoonful every
half-hour will--Oh, the child needs belladonna, too; I know she does--and