When dinner was over Mr. Stillman glared into the room where his wife
lay. "She is asleep," he said. "I guess she's all right."
"She hasn't eaten a thing to-day," said Rachel. "Hadn't she better
have the doctor?"
"Well," said her father, impatiently, "if she's no better in the
morning, I'll send for him;" and he went back to the field.
Rachel went for Mrs. Lansing, for she and her sisters grew frightened
as the mother's fever increased. When that good woman came she saw at
once the serious condition of her friend.
"I saw Dr. Lewis coming down the road in his buggy as I came," she
said. "One of you hurry out and stop him."
When, about five o'clock, the rain began to fall in torrents, Mr.
Stillman had the satisfaction of seeing the last load of grain driven
inside the barn door; and, taking off his hat, he wiped the moisture
from his face, saying: "Well, boys, we beat the rain; and I don't care
if it pours down now."
He walked toward the house, and, to his surprise, saw the well-known
figure of Dr. Lewis on the front porch. "Driven in by the rain," he
thought. "I'll get him to give mother a little medicine."
"How are you, doctor?" he said, as he stepped upon the porch. "Lucky
getting my wheat in, wasn't I?"
"Very," said the doctor, gravely; "but I am sorry to say I find Mrs.
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