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Motan ran on her pattering little feet as fast as she could go, and made straight for the kitchen, wear she flung herself into her mother's skirts and breathed hard for a moment. Frodides looked down in some surprise, but said nothing until she recalled, with a start, that Motan was one of the children Bethberry had sent to watch over a sick girl. She pulled the girl away from her skirts and looked down into the round little face.
"Oh, Mamma, I'm so tirsty," said Motan, in a little gasping voice. "I 'ad to run so 'ard and now I 'ave to go find Mistress Bethberry and tell her someting but I can 'ardly talk 'cause I ran so 'ard to you. Mamma, can I 'ave a glass of water?"
"Did something happen to the girl?" Frodides demanded.
"She's very sick," said Motan, shaking her head solemnly. "I tink she fainted, Mamma."
"Run and tell Bethberry, then, lassie, don't stand here talking to me!" Frodides cried.
"But, Mamma, I'm so tirsty!" Motan wailed, putting her hands to her throat.
"Now, look here," said Frodides, putting a gentle hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Go tell Mistress Bethberry right away, and when you've done that you can come back, and I'll have a beautiful glass of cool water waiting for you. But you must hurry."
Motan exaggerated her breathing so she sounded as if she were dying of thirst and exhaustion, but she turned and hurried from the kitchen to the Common Room, where Bethberry sat talking with some other guests. Motan flung herself into Bethberry's skirts much the same way she had done with her mother, and looked up with tragic eyes.
"Mistress... Bethberry," she said, loudly panting between each word, "Mereflod.... wants me... to come... tell... you... Miss.... Saeryn.... fainted!... I tink she fainted."
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