but not as weak as I had on that previous occasion. In fact, it was the opposite, like I could climb out of the bed and venture across the room, if need be—as if I had emerged from a great sleep—a bear emerging from hibernation and returning to the world.
I reached for the little bell on my night table and gave it a shake. Ma appeared at my door moments later, a breakfast tray in hand. “And how are you feeling this morning?” she asked as she settled the tray on the table beside me. “You gave us quite a scare last night. Your fever exceeded all others in recent memory; I honestly feared you were in danger of combusting while you slept . . . your skin was so hot.”
“What of Nanna Ellen? Is she here?” I said in a voice not quite my own.
“She is indeed.” Ma’s eyes glanced down the hall to Ellen’s door. “What do you recall of last night?”
I tried to remember the events of the night before, but it was a dismal blur at best. I vaguely recalled my fever growing worse, then little more until the arrival of Uncle Edward. “Uncle Edward bled me.”
Ma sat on the edge of my bed and folded her hands in her lap. “That he did, and a good thing, too; the fever had taken a deep hold on you, and if he had not arrived when he did, there’s no telling what would have come of you. Edward is a blessing on us all, and you owe him quite a debt. I expect you to tell him so when next you see him.”
“But it was Nanna Ellen who really helped me, was it not?”
Ma shuffled where she sat, her fingers twisting nervously together. “Your uncle is to thank for your recovery, nobody else; it was his competency that put an end to your fever. To say otherwise is nothing more than conjecture, and I will hear no such talk.”
Her eyes fluttered back to Nanna Ellen’s closed door down the hall. “I’m beginning to wonder why we allow that woman to remain in our house, disappearing for days at a time and returning according to her own timetable and whim. I require someone dependable when it comes to tending to you and the other children, not an unpredictable, flighty vagabond. I plan to speak to your father about her; perhaps a change is overdue.”
She was clearly aggravated, and I did not wish to agitate her further, so I changed the subject. “Is Uncle Edward still here?”
“He left with the rising sun, I’m afraid. He slept downstairs for a few hours but was due back at his work in the early hours and could stay no longer. He was kind enough to check back in on you once before he left and told me your condition improved greatly—a miraculous recovery, he said.” Ma turned and over her shoulder loudly announced, “Matilda, your brother is awake!”
Matilda poked her head around the corner of my door; she had been standing there the entire time.
“Why, you little snoop!” Ma exclaimed. “I’m going to take Bram’s bell and tie it around your neck!”
Matilda blushed. “I wasn’t snooping, Ma.”
Ma tilted her head. “I am to believe you were just standing in the hallway outside your brother’s door simply because it is a comfortable place to rest your feet?”
Matilda opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it.
Down the hall, Baby Richard began to wail, and Ma pursed her lips. “That child will be the death of me. Stay with your brother for a moment.”
With that, Ma left the room, and Matilda took her place on the edge of the bed. Reaching for the breakfast tray, she plucked up a piece of toast and crammed it in her mouth, then handed the remaining slice to me. The bread was slightly stale, and I wasn’t very hungry, but I ate it anyway. When I was sure Ma was out of earshot, I spoke in a low voice. “What happened with Nanna Ellen last night?”
Matilda, too, looked down the hall for Ma before responding. “You don’t recall?”
I shook my