Babette sat by the bedside trying to soothe her charge in very bad English, and evidently but with little success.

The bed-clothes had been tossed off, the little thin hands closed and unclosed in them--the great dark eyes were wide and wild--the black hair all tossed and disordered on the pillow.
Babette rose precipitately at the Doctor's entrance.
"Here's the Doctor, Mees Darling.

May I go now, Monsieur ?" "Yes, you may go; but remain outside, in case I should, want you." He shut the door on Babette, and took her place by the sick girl's bedside.
Babette lingered in the passage, staring at the stormy morning, and gaping forlornly.
"I hope he won't be long," she thought.

"I want to go to bed." Dr.Frank, however, was long.

Eight struck somewhere in the house; that was half an hour, and there was no sign of his coming.