The Two Elsies Part 39

Till the crisis was past they watched over them day and night, aided by Drs. Conly and Percival.

Arthur had obeyed the summons with all possible dispatch, approved of what d.i.c.k was doing, and joined him in the care of the little patients.

One or the other was always close at hand.

"This is a sad, anxious time for you, my dear Vi," Elsie said one evening as they sat together in the sick-room--Violet with her almost dying babe on her lap, while Grace lay on the bed in an equally critical condition; "but you are bearing up bravely."

"Dear mamma, you help me very much in so doing," Violet said, low and tremulously; "so do Arthur and d.i.c.k. But best of all, 'underneath are the everlasting arms.' O mamma, it seems as if my heart must break if either of the children is taken, and I may be called to part with both--and their father, my dear, dear husband, so far away."

She paused, overcome by her emotions.

"'G.o.d is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble,'" her mother whispered, with a tenderly sympathetic look. "'He will never leave nor forsake you, dear child.'"

"No, mamma; my heart is constantly saying to Him,

'I have called thee Abba, Father!

I have stayed my heart on thee; Storms may howl and clouds may gather-- All must work for good to me.'"

"Yes, dear child," Elsie said with emotion, "'we know that all things work together for good to them that love G.o.d.'"

"And my baby is so young, Gracie such a dear little Christian child, that, if I must give them up, I shall know that they are safe--

'Safe in the arms of Jesus, Safe on His gentle breast.'"

Grace, whom they had deemed quite unconscious, opened her eyes and fixed them on Violet's face with a look of ardent affection.

"Yes, mamma," she said feebly, "I'm not afraid to die; because I know that Jesus loves me. My head aches; I'd like to lay it down on His breast. And--He'll comfort you and papa, and--the rest."

Violet could not speak for weeping, but Elsie bent over the child, and tenderly smoothing her pillow, said, "Yes, darling, He will; and whether we live or die, we are all His, and we know that He will do what is best for each one of us."

Grace dropped asleep again almost immediately, and Elsie resumed her seat by her daughter's side.

"Oh," murmured Violet, "dearly as I love Gracie, I should far rather see her go than Lulu, because I am sure she is ready for the change; and I know their father would feel so too. Mamma, how long it is since I have heard from him! I begin to feel very anxious. Ah, what comfort and support his presence would be to me now!"

"Yes, dearest; but console yourself with the thought of how much anxiety and distress he is spared by his ignorance of the critical condition of these little ones. We may be able in a few days to write that they are better--out of danger, with careful nursing, so that the news of their convalescence will reach him at the same time with that of their severe illness."

"Yes, mamma, there is comfort in that," Violet said, smiling through her tears.

On going down to breakfast the next morning Elsie found her father seated at the table, with the morning paper before him. He glanced up at her as she came in, and something in his expression of countenance set her heart to throbbing wildly.

"Oh, papa, what is wrong?" she asked. "My boys? have you?--is there bad news of them?" and she dropped into a chair, trembling in every limb.

"No, no, daughter," he hastened to say. "I think they are all right; here are letters from all three," pointing to a pile on the table before him.

She drew a long breath of relief; then with another glance at his face, "But what is wrong? certainly something is distressing you greatly. And mamma is shedding tears," as she saw Rose furtively lift her handkerchief to her eyes.

"Yes," he sighed, "something is wrong; and not to keep you in suspense--it is a report that Captain Raymond is lost. It is now some weeks since his vessel should have been heard from, and it is greatly feared that she has gone down with all on board."

"Vi! oh, my poor Vi!" gasped Elsie; "her heart will be overwhelmed: we must keep it from her as long as we can; at least till the children are better."

"Certainly," Mr. Dinsmore said, "my dear child," going to Elsie and taking her hand in his in tender, fatherly fas.h.i.+on. "Remember it is only a report,--or rather a conjecture,--which may be without any foundation in fact. The captain may be alive and well at this moment."

A slight sound caused them all--Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore and Elsie--to look toward the door opening into the hall.

Max stood there with a face from which every vestige of color had fled, his features quivering with emotion.

"What--what is it about, papa?" he asked hoa.r.s.ely. "Oh, Grandpa Dinsmore, Grandma Elsie, don't hide it from me! I must know!"

"Max, my boy, how came you here?" Mr. Dinsmore asked in a kindly pitying tone, going to the lad and making him sit down, while he took a gla.s.s of water from the table and held it to his lips.

Max put it aside. "My father?--what about my father?"

His tone was full of agonized inquiry, and Mr. Dinsmore saw the question was not to be evaded.

"My poor fellow," he said, "I am truly sorry you should be distressed by hearing what is as yet only a rumor: fears are reported that your father's vessel is lost; but nothing is known certainly yet, and we must hope for the best."

For a moment the boy seemed utterly stunned; then, "I don't believe it! I _won't_ believe it!" he exclaimed. "We can't do without him; and G.o.d wouldn't take him from us. Would He, Grandma Elsie?" and his eyes sought hers with a look of anguished entreaty that she knew not how to withstand.

"My dear Max, I trust we shall have better news to-morrow," she said tenderly; "but whatever comes, we know that all things work together for good to them that love G.o.d. He is our kind, Heavenly Father, who loves us with far more than an earthly parent's love, and will let no real evil befall any of His children."

"Yes, and--oh, I'm sure it couldn't be good for Lulu and me to be without our father to help us to grow up right."

No one present thought it necessary to combat that idea, or show that it might be a mistaken one, since it seemed to afford some comfort to the boy.

"We will hope for the best, Max; so do not let possibilities distress you," Mr. Dinsmore said kindly. "Come to the table now, and take some breakfast with us."

"Thank you, sir; but I couldn't eat," returned Max brokenly. "Grandma Elsie, how are Gracie and baby?"

"I'm afraid no better, Max," she said in faltering tones; "the crisis of the disease has not yet come; but in regard to them also we must try to hope for the best. Indeed, whatever the result, we shall know it is for the best," she added with tears in her soft, sweet eyes, "because 'He doeth all things well.'"

It was Sat.u.r.day, and there was no school; but Max had promised Lulu that he would go over to Oakdale after breakfast and carry her the news in regard to the sick children.

She was extremely anxious and distressed about them, and as soon as at liberty to follow her inclination, hastened to a part of the grounds overlooking the road by which he must come.

She had not been there long when she saw him approaching, walking slowly, dejectedly along, with his eyes on the ground.

"Oh, they are no better," she said to herself; "for if they were better, Max wouldn't hang his head like that."

She stood still, watching him with a sinking heart as he came in at the gate and drew near her, still with his eyes cast down. And now she perceived that his countenance was pale and distressed.

"O Max," she cried, "are they worse?--dying? Oh, don't say they are!"

"No; they are no better: perhaps they may be to-morrow; but--"

He stopped, his eyes full of tears as he lifted them for a moment to her face, his features working with emotion.

"Max, Max, what is it?" she asked, clutching at his arm. "Oh, what is the matter? You must tell me."

"My father--our father--" He covered his face with his hands and sobbed aloud.