A room must be prepared, and somebody must direct, but to find the somebody was a most difficult matter.

Chloe couldn't, Hannah couldn't, Aunt Eunice couldn't, and consequently it all devolved upon herself.
They carried Hugh to the room designated by Densie, and into which he went very unwillingly.
It was not his den, he said, drawing back with a bewildered look; his was hot, and close, and dingy, while this was nice and cool--a room such as women had--there must be a mistake, and he begged of them to take him away.
"No, no, my poor boy.

This is right; Miss Johnson said you must come here just because it is cool and nice.

You'll get well so much faster," and Aunt Eunice's tears dropped on Hugh's flushed face.
"Miss Johnson!" and the wild eyes looked up eagerly at her.

"Who is she?
Oh, yes, I know, I know," and a moan came from his lips as he whispered: "Does she know I've come?
Does it make her hate me worse to see me in such a plight?
Ho, Aunt Eunice, put your ear down close while I tell you something.