"Georgie"
shouldn't like old Muffin face to run any risks."
"Thank you," said I. "I shouldn't have expected so much forethought. Let me know the verdict."
Georgie rooted up a tuft of grass with his stick.
"I noticed that the poor little chap tossed about a good deal in the night," said he, "but I thought that might be the usual thing in a five-year-old. How was I to guess it meant a temperature? When you come to think of it, it was rather awkward—my plunging him into the middle of all those people last night."
I thought uneasily of Drusilla who had hugged him—of our baby, who had been hugged by Drusilla directly afterward.
Georgie, however, chuckled.
"They'll all be in fits for a fortnight," said he, "waiting for their rashes to come out. Serve 'em right."
"What about you?" said I.
"Oh, I'm all right!" he answered
155
