The Orphans of Glen Elder Part 2

"It's maybe not better than many and many a one here," said Lilias, slowly turning over the leaves of her Bible; "but I happened on it once when I needed something to help me, and I've liked it ever since."

"And what time was that?" asked her aunt, much interested.

"Oh, it was long ago," answered Lilias, lowering her voice, and looking to see if her mother still slept. "It was just after father died.

Mother was ill, and I thought G.o.d was sending us too much trouble; and I came upon this chapter, and it did me so much good! Not that I thought Jesus would raise up my father again, but I knew He could do greater things than that if He pleased; and I knew He had not forgotten us in our troubles, more than He had forgotten Mary and Martha, though He stayed still in the same place where He was, two whole days after they had sent for Him because their brother was sick. No trouble has seemed so bad since then; and none ever will again, come what may."

"Come what may!" Little was Lilias thinking of all that might be hidden in those words. She gradually came to know, as that night and the next day and night pa.s.sed away, and the dawning of the third day found her mother no better, but rather worse. Mrs Blair had concealed her own anxiety, for the children's sake. Believing her sister's illness to be the consequence of over-exertion, she had thought that rest and quiet would be sufficient to restore her; but these three days had made no change for the better, and, fearing the worst, she asked Lilias if she knew any doctor to whom they might apply.

"Yes; there is Dr Gordon, who attended my father and Archie. We have not seen him for a long time, but I think I could find his house." And, with trembling eagerness, she prepared to go out.

It rained violently, but Lilias scarcely knew it, as she ran rather than walked along the street. It was still early, and the doctor had not gone out. When the servant carried in the little girl's message, he repeated the name several times, as if to recall it.

"Mrs Elder!--I had lost sight of her this long time. Yes, certainly I will go. Where does she live now?"

The servant replied that the child who brought the message was waiting to show him the way; and in a few minutes he was ready to go with her.

Lilias, who was standing at the door, started homeward as soon as he appeared, and hurried on almost as rapidly as she came, so that the doctor had some difficulty in keeping her in sight.

"Are you sure you are not mistaking the way?" said he, as Lilias waited for him at the corner of the street, or rather the alley that led to the attic; "surely Mrs Elder cannot be living in a place like this?"

Lilias threw back her bonnet, and now, for the first time, looked in the doctor's face. "Yes, sir, we have lived here ever since the time you used to come and see Archie."

"Oh, he! my Lily of the valley, this is you, is it? Well, don't cry,"

he added; for his kindly voice had brought the tears to the child's eyes. "We shall have your mother quite well in a day or two again, never fear."

But he looked grave indeed as he stood beside her, and took her burning hand in his.

"You don't think my mother will be long ill?" said Lilias, looking up anxiously into his face as he stood beside the bed.

"No, my child; I don't think she will be long ill," said he, gravely.

And Lilias, rea.s.sured by his words, and fearing no evil, smiled almost brightly again, as she went quietly about her household work.

"You think her dying, then?" said Mrs Blair, to whom his words conveyed a far different meaning.

"She is not dying yet; but, should her present symptoms continue long, she cannot possibly survive. She must have been exerting herself far beyond her strength or living long without nouris.h.i.+ng food, to have become reduced to a state so frightfully low as that in which I find her."

"She has been doing both, I fear," said her sister, sadly. "She has sacrificed herself. And, yet, what could she do? They have had nothing for many months between them and want, but the labour of her hands, and the few pence that poor child could earn. G.o.d help them!"

"G.o.d help them, indeed!" echoed the doctor earnestly.

He gave her what hope he could. He said it was possible, only just possible, that she might rally. It would depend on the strength of her const.i.tution. Nothing that he could do for her would be left undone.

"In the mean time, we must hope for the best."

But, with so much cause to fear, it was no easy thing to hope; and to Mrs Blair the day was a long and anxious one. Her sister seemed conscious at intervals; but for the greater part of the time she lay quite still, giving no evidence of life, save by her quick and laboured breathing. When Dr Gordon came again at night there was no change for the better; and, though he did not say so, it was evident to Mrs Blair that he antic.i.p.ated the worst.

"And must she die without recovering consciousness? Can she speak no word to her children before she goes?"

"It is possible she may die without speaking again. But if she revives so much as to speak, it will be very near the end."

Lilias had gone out on an errand, so that she did not see the doctor; and her aunt's heart grew sick at the thought of telling her that her mother must so soon die. Archie evidently had some idea of his mother's state; for, though he did not speak, he gazed anxiously into his aunt's face as she turned away from the bed.

"Poor boy! Poor, helpless child!" she murmured, stooping suddenly over him. Poor boy, indeed! He knew it all now. He asked no questions. He needed to ask none; but he hid his face in the pillow, and sobbed as if his heart would break. At length Lilias' footstep was heard on the stair, and he hushed his sobs to listen. She came up step by step, slowly and wearily; for the watching and anxiety of the last few days and nights were beginning to tell upon her.

"Well, aunt?" she said, laying down the burden she had brought up, and looking hopefully into her aunt's face. Mrs Blair could not speak for a moment; and Lilias, startled by her grave looks, exclaimed:

"Does Dr Gordon think my mother worse?"

"She is not much better, I fear, love," said her aunt, drawing her towards her, and holding her hands firmly in her own. Lilias gave a fearful glance into her face. The truth flashed upon her; but she put it from her in terror.

"We must have patience, aunt. She has had no time to grow better yet."

"Yes, love; we must have patience. Whatever G.o.d shall see fit to send on us, we must not distrust Him, Lilias."

"Yes, we must have patience," said the child, scarcely knowing what she said. She went and knelt down beside the bed, and spoke to her mother; but her voice had no power to rouse her from the heavy slumber into which she had fallen. In a little while she rose, and went quietly about arranging the things in the room. Then, with needless care, the supper was placed on the table; for none of them could taste food. Then her brother was prepared for bed; but all the time she spoke no word, and went about like one in a dream.

When she stooped to kiss her brother a good-night, the little boy clasped his arms about her neck, and wept aloud. But she did not weep; she laid her head down on the pillow beside him, gently soothing him with hand and voice; and, when at last he had sobbed himself to sleep, she disengaged his arms from her neck, and, rising, placed herself on a low stool beside her mother's bed.

Mrs Blair thought it better to leave her to herself. Indeed, what could she say to comfort her? And so the child sat a long time gazing into her mother's face, her own giving no sign of the struggle that was going on within. At first the one thought that filled her mind was that it was impossible her mother could be going to die. It seemed too dreadful to be true; and, then, it was so sudden! Her father had been with them for months after they knew that he must die, and her mother had been quite well only three days ago. No; it could not be!

And, yet, such things had been before. She thought of a little girl, rosy and strong, who had sickened and died in three short days; and it might be so with her mother. How should she ever live without her? Oh, if she could only die too, and have done with life and its struggles!

Everything was forgotten in the misery of the moment; and with a moan that revealed to her aunt something of what she was suffering, she leaned forward on the bed.

"Lily," said a voice beside her.

Lilias started. It was the first time her mother had spoken during the day, and the child bent eagerly over her and kissed her.

"Lily, love, read to me the twelfth of Hebrews," said her mother, in a low, changed voice.

By a strong effort Lilias quieted herself, and read on till she came to the eleventh verse: "'Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous; but afterwards it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness to them that are exercised thereby.'"

"You believe that, Lily?" said her mother.

"Yes, mother," said the child, in a trembling voice.

"And you'll mind it by-and-by, darling, and comfort your brother with the words? It won't be for long, Lily. You'll soon be with us there."

"Mother! mother!" gasped the child, losing her self-control, as she threw herself upon the bed and clasped her arms about her mother's neck.

For a few minutes her frame shook with her sobs. Fearing the effect of this strong emotion on the mother, Mrs Blair came to the bed; but she did not speak, and by a strong effort she calmed herself again.

"Lily," said her mother, in a moment or two, "I have many things to say to you, and I have not much strength left. You must calm yourself, darling, and listen to me."

"But, mother, you are not much worse to-night, are you?"

"G.o.d is very good to us both, my child, in giving me a little strength and a clear mind at the last. What I have to say will comfort you afterwards, Lily. I want to tell my darling what a comfort she has been to me through all my time of trouble. I have thanked G.o.d for my precious daughter many a time when I was ready to sink. Archie will never want a mother's care while he has you; and for his sake, love, you must not grieve too much for me. It will only be for a little while; and, then, think how happy we shall be."

There was a pause.