Sylvia bent over her and took her in her arms.
"My dear little sister," she said.
CHAPTER XVIII
When the long, hideous night was over, and Edith lay, very white and
still, her wide, frightened eyes never leaving Sylvia's face, the doctor,
gathering up his belongings, touched the latter lightly on the arm.
"She'll have to have constant care for several days, perfect quiet for
two weeks at least. But if I send for a nurse--"
"I know. I'm sure I can do everything necessary for her. I've had some
experience with sickness before."
The doctor nodded, a look of relief and satisfaction passing over his
face. "I see that you have. Get her to drink this. She must have some
sleep at once."
But when Sylvia, left alone with her, held the glass to Edith's lips, she
shrank back in terror.
"No, no, no! I don't want to go to sleep--I mustn't--I shall dream!"
"Dear child, you won't--and if you do, I shall be right here beside you,
holding your hand like this, and you can feel it, and know that, after
all, dreams are slight things.
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