Little Frankie on a Journey Part 4

She could scarcely stop to give him a kiss, before she said, "I want to see my baby, papa--where is it?"

"Run very softly up in the nursery," said the gentleman, laughing at her impatience. "You will find it there with Maria."

Nelly darted up the stairs, and was presently kneeling on the floor by the cradle which held the tiny form of the baby. When her aunt gently followed her into the room, she saw her, with flushed cheeks and wondering eyes, still gazing at the sleeping babe.

Presently she turned away with an air of disappointment. "It isn't as large as my great dolly," she said.

Maria, who had charge of the infant, now returned from the next room, and began to welcome Nelly home again. She courtesied to Mrs. Gray, though the lady could see that she had never forgiven her for not allowing her to remain with the little girl.

"How is Mrs. Nelson?" asked Mrs. Gray.

"Very poorly as yet, ma'am. She is in the next room."

"Why, mamma, are you sick?" inquired Nelly, running into the chamber, and climbing on the side of the bed.

"Take care, Nelly," cried her aunt. "Don't jar the bed so; your mamma has been very ill."

"I'm sorry," said the little girl, affectionately, and she kissed her mother's pale hand. "May I show Frankie my baby now?" she asked, turning to her aunt.

"If you will go very softly, dear. Remember, noise will make your mamma worse." Then Mrs. Gray went into the next room, and took off her bonnet and shawl. After this, she returned to the nursery, where the baby was still sleeping.

Nelly and her cousin were just going out, each walking on tip-toe, so as not to hurt mamma.

"I never saw a child so much changed," said the old lady who took care of Mrs. Nelson. "I was here two years ago to nurse her mother; and she was the torment of the house."

"She is very easily managed, now," answered Mrs. Gray. "She obeys my slightest look."

"We've a little mite of a fellow in there," said the good nurse; "he only weighed three pounds and a quarter with his clothes on. I never thought he would live till this time."

"Is he quiet?" asked the aunt.

"He has turns of screaming dreadfully," answered the nurse. "That is what has kept his mother so ill."

At this moment they heard Mr. Gray and Mr. Nelson coming up the stairs, and the nurse opened the door and beckoned them into the nursery, as the sick lady was trying to get some sleep while the baby was quiet.

Maria had been sitting in the room with her work; but now she arose and said, "Baby will be likely to sleep a spell now, and I'll go down to the kitchen and do my ironing."

"I will take care of him till you return," said Mrs. Gray.

Her husband and Willie were to ride home in the afternoon, and so her brother had invited them up to see his little son. He seemed very anxious about the baby, and asked his sister whether she thought it would live.

Before she answered, the lady bent gently over the cradle, and put her ear down to its chest. It was in such a deep sleep that it almost seemed as if it were already dead. "I cannot tell," she said, seriously, "until I have seen it when awake."

After dinner, before her husband returned home, she called him into the parlor, and told him she was afraid Maria gave the baby something to make it sleep so heavily, and she was determined to stay and watch her, and try to save the dear child.

CHAPTER VI.

THE WICKED NURSE.

For two days Mrs. Gray scarcely left the nursery for a moment. The poor little babe would lie and sleep for hours together, and when he was awake he would scream and throw his head back as if he was going into a fit. The lady would take him from Maria, and hold him on her breast, and carry him about the room trying to soothe him, until at last he would fall asleep again. All this time she had never been able to see that Maria gave him any thing but his food. This was cream and boiling water, made pretty sweet with loaf sugar, and she fed him with a spoon.

One day the lady came in just as she was going to feed him, and asked to taste of it.

Maria held up the cup without speaking.

"It is very nice," said the lady. "I can't see why it distresses him so." She then turned to leave the room, but as she did so, she saw a strange kind of smile come over Maria's face; and it brought all the old suspicions to her mind. When she reached the entry, she came suddenly back again, and saw Maria pouring some dark-colored drops from a small vial into the cup. Then she took the spoon and began to feed the baby again, laying the vial close behind her on the chair.

Mrs. Gray sprang forward before Maria knew she was in the room, caught it, and held it up to the light. The word Laudanum was printed on the label.

For one moment, her heart beat so fast that she could not speak; then she s.n.a.t.c.hed the poor baby from Maria's arms, threw a large cradle blanket around him, and ran down stairs to the library, where her brother was writing.

"Here, Edward," she exclaimed,--"here is the food Maria feeds your little son upon;" and she held out the bottle toward him. "I have suspected her all along; but to-day I saw her pouring some into the cup."

"Where is the wretch?" asked the poor father, his cheeks growing very white. "How dared she do this?"

When they returned to the nursery, Maria had run away to the chamber in the attic, where she kept her trunk; but she had forgotten to take care of the cup into which she had poured the laudanum.

While they were tasting and examining it, the doctor came in, and said that he wondered, with such feeding, that the baby had not died long before. "We have all been to blame," said the doctor; "and if it had not been for your sister, Mr. Nelson, I think the child could not have lived many days."

Mrs. Gray pressed the poor suffering baby to her heart, and resolved that she would watch over it until a good, faithful nurse could be provided. She then rang the bell for some fresh cream and water, while her brother went to the attic to send Maria from the house.

He found her busy packing her trunks, for she had sense enough to know that she would not be allowed to stay longer. He told her she must leave immediately, and that her trunks should be sent after her. He took out his pocket book, and paid her the week's wages that were her due, saying he would not have such a wicked creature in the house another minute.

Maria cried, and begged on her knees to be allowed to take her trunks with her, until her master began to think she had some things in them which did not belong to her.

He stepped back into the entry, and told Nelly, who was in the lower hall, to tell the cook to come up to him. This was a good woman, who had lived with him ever since he was married. When she came, he told her to examine Maria's trunks, and see whether there was any silver in them, or other articles belonging to the house.

Maria cried, and wrung her hands, and said it was cruel to treat her so; but her master stood by the door, his countenance growing every moment more stern, while the cook drew out from the bottom of the trunk three small jars of jelly, four silver teaspoons, one silver fork, a gold thimble, and three richly-worked collars, all of which the gentleman recognized as belonging to his wife.

In spite of the tears and groans of the wicked woman, Mr. Nelson sent for an officer to arrest her, for he felt sure, if she would steal and lie, and more than all, if she would give a child that which she knew would destroy its life, she ought to be punished for her crimes.

Mrs. Gray did not return home for nearly two weeks, and then she left the little baby, who had been named Eddy, in the care of a good woman, who gave him nouris.h.i.+ng milk from her own breast. The little fellow now began to thrive and grow, though the doctor said he would be a long time in recovering from Maria's cruel treatment.

Mr. Nelson was so much delighted with the improvement in his little girl, that he consented to her returning with her aunty, though it was a great trial to have her remain from home.

Nelly and Frankie had taken almost the whole care of themselves during the three weeks of their stay, improving the pleasant autumn weather by running all over the garden and grounds.

Back of the house, there was a beautiful grove of chestnut trees, from two of which was suspended a swing. Here the children pa.s.sed many happy hours. Sometimes they sat under the delightful shade with their books in their hands, reading aloud by turns as they did when at home. Sometimes they would sing their pretty songs, or repeat favorite verses. Then, when they were tired of these quiet amus.e.m.e.nts, they would skip through the walks with arms interlaced, or jump the rope, or play at hide and seek.

At the lower end of the garden, the smooth gravelled walks were lined with high lattices upon which were trained peach trees, in the shape of fans. These afforded fine places to hide, which were eagerly improved by the children. Mrs. Gray often found herself joining the merry shout which echoed through the garden when either Nelly or her cousin was successful in the search.

"O, how I wish Ponto were here!" exclaimed Frankie one day, sinking on the gra.s.s and panting for breath. "He would have found you out long before I did. That was a real funny place to hide. I kept hearing you call, 'Coop, coop,' but never thought of looking in there."

"Yes, indeed!" cried Nelly, laughing and shaking back her curls. "At first I was afraid I couldn't creep in, the bushes grew so close to the ground. I could peep through the leaves and see you looking every where.