Εικόνες σελίδας
PDF
Ηλεκτρ. έκδοση

6

Only scarlet fever,' said the doctor, 'that's not much. Worst thing is, it makes one look like a lobster.'

[ocr errors]

• Shall I be sick a great while?' said the child again

Hum' said the doctor,-'depends entirely. Not if you make haste and get well. I'll cure you up in no time.' The words seemed satisfactory enough, but they failed to give satisfaction. Hulda looked away from him to her sister, finding comfort in her look and smile, grave as they both were.

The doctor fidgetted about the room, kicked the fire, came back to ask questions, then stamped off to the door.

[ocr errors]

Hark you, Miss Rosalie,' he said, 'don't forget why I left that crack in the window-shutter. Good-bye — I'll see you again this evening. And keep your spirits up,—there's nothing in life to put 'em down.'

But Rosalie thought that there was many a thing in life to do that office for her spirits had they needed it. In life! -With that thought came one of life's great antagonist, and sitting down once more by the bed, she took her little sister on her lap, and began very tenderly that work of undressing which the doctor recommended. Was there anything in death to depress her?

There had been the tokens of his power were not less plain upon her face than in her dress; and now human nature lived still! Before those two sisters could be separated many a band must give way that passed about them, unseen in this world, but forming to the eyes of angels a golden tissue of love and confidence. Rosalie felt as if some hand were trying its strength even now. was something in these quiet preparations for suffering that tried her extremely; and to brace her mind for possibilities, without that sudden strength which an emergency gives, was very hard. And more than once was her hand passed across her face with that feeling of which Rutherford wrote,

There

THE PATIENT.

O how sweet it is for a sinner to put his weakness in Christ's strengthening hand!-Weakness can speak and ery, when we have not a tongue.'

'Do you think I shall get well, Alie?' said little Hulda, looking up at her.

I trust so, my darling.'

Steady and sweet the voice was as ever.

'Then what makes you look sorrowful?'

'Because you look sick. Is not that enough to make me sorrowful?'

'No, not if I'm going to get well soon.' And as if but half satisfied with her sister's face, Hulda repeated,'Isn't he a good doctor? Won't he cure me?'

'I believe he is a very good doctor; but dear Hulda I trust you in better hands than his.'

The child smiled with a perfect understanding of her words, - a look so quick and bright, that Rosalie was silent until her little charge was laid in the bed. Then Hulda spoke.

6

-

Say that to me again.'

'I have done as the people did when Jesus was in the world,' Rosalie answered,-when they brought their sick and laid them down at Jesus' feet, and besought Him that He would heal them.'

'I wish you would ask Him again,' said the child, wearily closing her eyes, 'for my head aches very much."

And kneeling down with the little hand fast in hers, Rosalie spoke once more the words of submission and entreaty, that strange mingling of feeling which none but a Christian can either know or rest in. When she arose, Hulda was asleep.

Carefully drawing the drapery around the bed corner, sò as to shield the child's eyes yet more from the light, Rosalie began to busy herself in arranging the room for its new use. Unnecessary articles were put out, and the needful brought in; and the closet was so filled and arranged that the rest of

the house should be but little called upon. At first Rosalie had half determined that none of the servants should be allowed to enter the sick-room; but Martha Jumps, light of heart as of foot, having declared that nothing short of a dismissal from the house should keep her from going where she pleased in it, she was made an exception, and forthwith moved about with a great access of dignity.

'There aint the least bit of squeak leather in my shoes, I can tell you,' said Martha in a whisper, which low as it was penetrated to the remotest corner of the room. 'I could walk over hatching eggs and not scare the chickens Tom Skiddy says-What next, Miss Rosalie ?'

'That little thermometer that hangs in the front room down stairs, Martha-and my desk, and the trivet.'

[ocr errors]

Theometers, hey,' said Martha,—that aint just the sort of doctor's stuff I took when I was a child, and yet I growed up as fast as most folks, too. What's the good of

theometers?'

But she brought it.

'Has Mr. Thornton come home?' was Rosalie's last question.

[ocr errors]

'Not he!' said Martha emphatically. The idea! And what use, after all ?'

'Ask him to come up here as soon as he does, Martha.' And then she sat down quietly to wait―that hardest of all things to do.

The sun was not long in finding his way to the horizon, and the darkness which had lain hid until his departure came forth,-at first slowly and tarrying in corners, then marching with swift steps over the whole city. The crowd gave way before her; footsteps were few and distinct ; the hum and the roar were past; and every carriage now had credit for just its own noise, and no other. The doctor had come on his promised visit, and had left medicine to be taken when she wakes up ;' and still Rosalie sat there alone

[blocks in formation]

in the dim light from the fire, and the far off and shielded candle. The winds were whispering at the corners of the house, and anon sighing around it,-now raising and now depressing their voices, but never entirely silent. Footsteps now had a character and meaning, coming out as they did from the deep stillness and passing into other stillness as deep; and as an oyster-man went slowly through the street with his cart, his deep monotonous cry of 'Oysters!' chimed wildly and yet soothingly with the universal tone of all things else.

And so passed the evening until a loud ring sounded through the house, and the new-comer had sprung up-stairs and entered the sick-room, almost before the startled bell clapper had regained its equanimity.

'Hush!' was Rosalie's first greeting.

'I thought you wanted to see me,' said the young man, with a but half-checked step.

"Yes, but softly-you will wake Hulda.'

'No disparagement to your eyes, my dear-which are as fine as can be no doubt-but I also must lay claim to some powers of vision. Hulda has been watching me ever since I came into the room. Now what is your pleasure? Martha having screamed 'scarlet fever!' after me as I came up stairs, I am prepared for any disclosures. Is that really the state of the case ?'

'So Dr. Buffem says.'

'Well I suppose he is at least on a par with his brethren in sagacity,' said Thornton, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 'How do you feel, young one? Heyday!-don't you want to be kissed?'

'No,' said Hulda, who had turned her face very decidedly away. You've been smoking.'

'What a little goose you are!' said her brother, laughing and standing up again. ' And I suppose I may not even shake hands with you, my Lady Squeamish ?'

But the lips that were hastily offered him shewed no fear of his, and the hand that rested on his shoulder had no touch but of sisterly affection-unless a little want of comfort mingled therewith. Thornton returned the embrace very heartily.

'You are a dear girl,' he said, 'with all your prejudices. Now don't trouble yourself about this child—I daresay she will do well enough. Would it be any comfort to you if I sat up with her to-night?'

'No,' said Rosalie, with a smile which she could not repress at the very idea; 'for then I should have two people to take care of instead of one."

'What are you going to give her ?'

'Something I have here-I don't know what ;-at twelve o'clock, Dr. Buffem said.'

'Well, I will come in then and see how you get on, and give her the medicine.'

A very needless offer, but it was not refused; and when little Hulda awoke at midnight from uneasy dreams to the dazzling candle, it was to see the medicine spoon in the hands of Thornton, and that plan of arrangements sanctioned by her sister's quiet presence and smile. But it was Rosalie's arm that raised her up, and it was on Rosalie's bosom that her head lay; and if Hulda dreamed of angels that night, they all wore Rosalie's face.

CHAPTER III.

Out of the day and night,

A joy has taken flight.-SHELLEY.

FOR several days the doctor's visits were short and frequent; and his conversation was made up of little abrupt ques

« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »