I couldn't do anything
but moan and cry--oh, how ashamed I am when I think of it; and yet what
could I do--we had tried everything we knew--and then all at once I
heard Mary Vance saying loudly behind me, 'Why, that child is dying!'
"I whirled around. Didn't I know he was dying--my little Jims! I could
have thrown Mary Vance out of the door or the window--anywhere--at
that moment. There she stood, cool and composed, looking down at my
baby, with those, weird white eyes of hers, as she might look at a
choking kitten. I had always disliked Mary Vance--and just then I hated
her.
"'We have tried everything,' said poor Susan dully. 'It is not ordinary
croup.'
"'No, it's the dipthery croup,' said Mary briskly, snatching up an
apron. 'And there's mighty little time to lose--but I know what to do.
When I lived over-harbour with Mrs. Wiley, years ago, Will Crawford's
kid died of dipthery croup, in spite of two doctors. And when old Aunt
Christina MacAllister heard of it--she was the one brought me round
when I nearly died of pneumonia you know--she was a wonder--no doctor
was a patch on her--they don't hatch her breed of cats nowadays, let me
tell you--she said she could have saved him with her grandmother's
remedy if she'd been there. She told Mrs. Wiley what it was and I've
never forgot it. I've the greatest memory ever--a thing just lies in
the back of my head till the time comes to use it.
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