"What, you don't have a thing so necessary as that in a house full of
children! Well, I shall get some to-morrow," he said, quite agitated.
"Do you want a candy, Maezli? Come, just taste how sweet it is."
"No, no, no," Maezli moaned again in such sorrowful tones as no one had
ever heard from the energetic little child.
Suddenly a most disturbing thought shot through the uncle's brain:
"Suppose the child has already caught the fever? What should I do? What
ought one to do?" he cried out with growing anxiety.
Kathy had entered the room in the meantime to see if anything more was
needed.
"That is the way, Mr. Falcon," she said, going up to Maezli, and quickly
lifting her in her strong arms, she carried her upstairs. Despite all
her lamenting the child was then undressed and put to bed. In the
shortest time she was sound asleep again without a trace of fever.
"Well, that's over now," Uncle Philip said, quite relieved when Kathy
came back with the news. "I really think that the time has come for us
all to seek our beds. Lippo actually looks as if he could not stand on
his little legs."
The boy was as white as chalk from staying up so late. From time to time
he tried to open his eyes, but they always fell shut again. The uncle,
taking his hand, wanted to lead him away, but he fought against it.
"Uncle Philip, we have not sung the evening song yet," he said, clutching
the piano.
"Mercy!" the uncle cried out disturbed.
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