Elsie's Kith and Kin

by Martha Finley

  CHAPTER XIII.

  "I'm on the rack;For sure, the greatest evil man can know,Bears no proportion to the dread suspense."

  "Is there any change, doctor?" asked Capt. Raymond, meeting Arthur Conlyin the hall.

  "Hardly," was the reply: "certainly none for the worse."

  "Will she get over it, do you think?" The father's tones were unsteadyas he asked the question.

  "My dear captain, it is impossible to tell yet," Arthur said feelingly;"but we must try to hope for the best."

  Their hands met in a warm clasp.

  "I shall certainly do so," the captain said. "But you are not going toleave us,--especially not in this storm?"

  "No: I expect to pass the night in the house, ready to be summoned at amoment's notice, should any change take place."

  "Thank you: it will be a great satisfaction to us to know we have youclose at hand." And the captain turned and entered the nursery, whichArthur had just left.

  Violet, seated by the side of the crib where her baby lay, looked up onher husband's entrance, greeting him with a smile of mingled love andsadness.

  "Your dear presence is such a comfort and support!" she murmured as hedrew near. "I don't like to lose sight of you for a single moment."

  "Nor I of you, dearest," he answered, bending down to kiss her palecheek, then taking a seat close beside her; "but I had to seek solitudefor a time while fighting a battle with myself. Since that I have beenwith Lulu."

  He concluded with a heavy sigh, and for a moment both were silent; thenhe said with grave tenderness,--

  "I fear you will find it hard to forgive her: it has been no easy thingfor me to do so."

  "I cannot yet," returned Violet, a hard look that he had never seenthere before stealing over her face; "and that is an added distress, for'if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Fatherforgive your trespasses.' I think I can if my baby recovers; but shouldit--be taken away--or--or, worse by far, live to be a constantsufferer--oh, how can I ever forgive the author of that suffering! Prayfor me, my dear husband," she sobbed, laying her head on his shoulder.

  "I will, I do, my darling," he whispered, passing his arm about her, anddrawing her closer; "and I know the help you need will be given.

  "'Ask, and it shall be given you.'

  "Perhaps it may aid the effort, if I tell you Lulu did not intentionallyharm her little sister, and is greatly distressed at her state. Shethought it was Rosie's dog pulling at her skirts; and I own that thatexplanation makes the sad affair a little less heart-rending to me,though I could not accept it as any excuse for an act done in a fury ofpassion, and have punished her very severely for it; that is, for herpassion. I think it is right, under the circumstances, that you shouldknow that I have, and that it is my fixed purpose to keep her insolitary confinement, at least so long as the baby continues in acritical condition."

  "Oh! I am glad to know it was not done purposely," Violetexclaimed,--though in a tone hardly raised above a whisper,--lifting hertearful eyes to his face with a look of something like relief: "knowingthat, I begin to feel that it may be possible to forgive and forget,especially if the consequences do not prove lasting," she added with asob, and turning her eyes to the little wan face on the pillow. "But Icertainly take no delight in the severity of her punishment: in fact, Ifear it may destroy any little affection she has had for her babysister."

  "No," he said, "I am not at all apprehensive of that. When she found Iwas about to punish her, she said she almost wanted me to; that she feltlike beating herself for hurting the baby, then went on to explain hermistake,--thinking it was the dog tugging at her dress,--and I then gaveher fully to understand, that the chastisement was not for hurting thebaby, but for indulging in such a fury of passion, a fault that I havepunished her for on more than one former occasion; telling her, too,that I intended to chastise her every time I knew of her being guilty ofit."

  The sound of a low sob caused the captain to turn his head, to find hislittle Grace standing at the back of his chair, and crying bitterly,though without much noise.

  He took her hand, and drew her to his side. "What is the matter,daughter?" he asked tenderly.

  "O papa! I'm so sorry for Lulu," she sobbed; "please, mayn't I go to herfor a little while?"

  "No, Gracie. I cannot allow her the pleasure of seeing you, eitherto-night, or for some days."

  "But, papa, you said--you told mamma just now--that you had alreadypunished her very severely; and must you keep on?"

  "Yes, my child, so far as to keep her in solitude, that she may haveplenty of time to think about what she has brought upon herself andothers by the indulgence of an ungovernable temper. She needs to havethe lesson impressed upon her as deeply as possible."

  "I'm so sorry for her, papa!" repeated the gentle little pleader.

  "So am I, daughter," he said; "but I think, that to see that she has thefull benefit of this sad lesson, will be the greatest kindness I can doher. And my little Grace must try to believe that papa knows best.

  "Now, give me a good-night kiss, and go to your bed, for it is quitetime you were there."

  As he spoke, he took her in his arms, and held her for a moment in aclose embrace. "Papa's dear little girl!" he said softly: "_you_ havenever given me a pang, except by your feeble health."

  "I don't want to, papa: I hope I never, never shall!" she returned,hugging him tight.

  Leaving him, she went to Violet, put her arms about her neck, and saidin her sweet, childish treble, "Dear mamma, don't feel so dreadfullyabout baby: I've been asking God to make her quite, quite well; and I dobelieve he will."

  When she had left the room, the captain found himself alone with hisyoung wife and their little one. Again her head was on his shoulder, hisarm about her waist.

  "My husband, my dear, dear husband," she murmured, "I am so glad to haveyou here! I cannot tell you how I longed for you when the children wereso ill. Oh, if we could only be together always, as Lester and Elsie,Edward and Zoe, are!"

  "My love, my life," he said in low tones, tremulous with feeling, "whatif I should tell you that your wish is already accomplished?"

  She gave him a glance of astonishment and incredulity.

  "It is even so: I mean all I have said," he answered to the look. "Ihave sent in my resignation: it has been accepted, and I have comehome--no, I have come _here_ to _make_ a home for you and my children,hoping to live in it with you and them for the rest of my days."

  Her face had grown radiant. "Oh! can it be true?" she cried, half underher breath; for even in her glad surprise, the thought of her sufferingbabe and its critical condition was present with her: "are we not to beforced apart again in a few days or weeks? not to go on spending morethan half our lives at a distance from each other?"

  "It is quite true, my darling," he answered, then went on to tell, in afew brief sentences, how it had come about.

  "It cost me a struggle to give up the service," he said in conclusion;"and perhaps I might not have decided as I did, but for the thoughtthat, if I should be needed by my country at some future day, I couldoffer her my services; and the thought that, at present, wife andchildren needed me more, probably, than she. I felt that Lulu, inparticular, needed my oversight and training; that the task of bringingher up was too difficult, too trying, to be left to other hands thanthose of her father; and I feel that still more sensibly since hearingof this day's doings," he added in a tone of heartfelt sorrow.

  "I think you are right," Violet said. "She is more willing to submit toyour authority than to that of anybody else; as, indeed, she ought tobe: and in a home that she will feel is really her own, her father'shouse, and with him constantly at hand, to watch over, and help her tocorrect her faults, there is hope, I think, that she may grow to be allyou desire."

  "Thank you, love, for saying it," he responded with emotion. "I couldnot blame you if now you thought her utterly irreclaimable."

  "No, oh, no!" she answered earnestly. "I have great hopes of her, with
her father at hand to help her in the struggle with her temper; for I amsure she does struggle against it; and I must acknowledge, that, formonths past, she has been as good and lovable a child as one coulddesire. I don't know a more lovable one than she is when her temper doesnot get the better of her; and, as Gracie says, whenever it does, 'shegets sorry very soon.'"

  "My darling," he said, pressing the hand he held, "you are most kind tobe so ready to see what is commendable in my wayward child. I cannotreasonably expect even you to look at her with her father's partialeyes. And dearly as I certainly do love her, I have been exceedinglyangry with her to-day; so angry, that, for a time, I dared not trustmyself to go near her, I, who ought to have unlimited patience with her,knowing, as I do, that she inherits her temper from me."

  "I don't know how to believe that, my dear, good husband," Violet said,gazing up into his face with fond, admiring eyes; "for I have never seenany evidence of it. If you have such a temper, you have certainly gainedcomplete mastery of it. And that may well give us hope for Lulu."

  "I do not despair of her," he said; "though I was near doing soto-day--for a time--after hearing a full account of her passionatebehavior--her savage assault, as it seemed to be, upon her baby sister."

  "Oh!" moaned Violet, bending over the little one with fast-fallingtears,--for it was moaning as if in pain,--"my baby, my poor, preciousbaby! how gladly mamma would bear all your suffering for you, if shecould! O Levis! what shall we do if she is taken from us?"

  "Dear wife, I hope we may not be called to endure that trial," he said;"but, in any case, we have the gracious promise, 'As thy days, so shallthy strength be.' And that blessed assurance, for our consolation, inregard to her, 'He shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry themin his bosom.'"

  "'Tis a very sweet promise; but, oh! I don't know how to resign her,even to Him," she said, weeping bitterly.

  "Nor I; but we will try to leave it all with Him. We will rejoice if sheis spared to us; and, if not, we will be glad to know that she is sosafe, so happy with Him--gathered with His arm, carried in His bosom."

  "Yes, yes," she sobbed: "it would be only for ourselves we would need togrieve, not for her, sweet pet."

  Elsie, Violet's mother, came into the room at that moment.

  "My dear Vi," she said tenderly, "you are looking sadly worn and weary.I want you and the captain to take your rest to-night, while Arthur andI will care for baby."

  "Thank you, dearest mamma," Violet replied; "but rest and sleep arequite as necessary to you as to me; and, besides, I could not bear toleave her."

  "I took a nap on purpose to be able to sit up to-night," Elsie said;"also, I am less exhausted by mental distress than her mother is, dearlyas I love her. Can you not trust her to me, with the doctor sharing myvigil?"

  "I could trust your nursing sooner than my own, mother," Violetanswered; "it is not that; but I cannot tear myself away from mydarling, while she is in so critical a state."

  "And I," said the captain, "while warmly thanking you and the doctor,cannot consent to leave either wife or baby to-night."

  So, finding they were not to be persuaded to rest, the others left themto watch over the little one through that night.

  The morning brought a slight change for the better, yet no certainty ofrecovery; but even that barely perceptible improvement, joined to thedelightful prospect of always having her husband at home, cheered Violetgreatly.

  They had talked much of that through the night, beguiling the long hoursof their tedium with many a bright plan for the future, always hopingthat "baby" would be a sharer in their realization.

  The captain hoped to buy or build in the near neighborhood of Ion, thatViolet need not be separated from her mother,--a separation he was mostdesirous to avoid on his own account, also; for he entertained a veryhigh regard and warm affection for his mother-in-law, averring that itwould be scarcely possible for him to love her better were he her ownson.

  He had resigned to Violet the pleasure of telling the joyful news to hermother and the whole family, except his children; reserving to himselfthe right to communicate the glad tidings to them when, and in what way,he should deem best.

  Lulu, he said, was to be kept in ignorance of it till the time of herimprisonment expired.

  At a very early hour in the morning, Elsie and the doctor came to therelief of the watchers. Arthur noted and announced the improvement,thus reviving hope in the anxious hearts of the parents; and beforeretiring for a few hours' rest and sleep, Violet whispered to them thenews that had gladdened her heart in spite of its heavy load of griefand fear.

  They both rejoiced with her, and bade her hope for the best in regard toher babe.

  Pain, mental and physical, kept Lulu awake a good while after her fatherleft her; but at length she fell into a deep sleep, which lasted farbeyond her customary hour for rising, the house being very still,because of the baby's illness, and the blinds down in her room, so thatthere was neither light nor noise to rouse her.

  Her first thoughts on awaking were a little confused: then, as with aflash, all the events of yesterday came to her remembrance, bringingwith them bitter upbraidings of conscience, and torturing anxieties andfears.

  Would the baby die? oh! perhaps it was already dead, and she amurderess! the murderess of her own little sister--her father's child!

  If that were so, how could she ever look him, or anybody else, in theface again? And what would be done to her? was there any danger that shewould be put in prison? oh! that would be far worse than being sent to aboarding-school, even where the people were as strict and asdisagreeable as possible!

  And she would be sorry, oh, so sorry! to lose the baby sister, or tohave her a sufferer from what she had done, for life, or for years, evencould she herself escape all evil consequences.

  All the time she was attending to the duties of the toilet, thesethoughts and feelings were in her mind and heart; and her fingerstrembled so that it was with difficulty she could manage buttons andhooks and eyes, or stick in a pin.

  She started at every sound, longing, yet dreading,--as she had done theprevious day,--to see her father; for who could tell what news he mightbring her from the nursery?

  Glancing at the little clock on the mantel, when at last she was quitedressed, and ready for her breakfast, she saw that it was more than anhour past the usual time for that meal; yet no one had been near her,and she was very hungry; but, even if her father had not forbidden herto leave the room, she would have preferred the pangs of hunger toshowing her face in the dining-room.

  Presently, however, footsteps--not those of her father--approached herdoor.

  "Miss Lu," said a voice she recognized as that of her mamma's maid,"please open de doah: hyar's yo' breakfus."

  The request was promptly complied with; and Agnes entered, carrying awaiter laden with a bountiful supply of savory and toothsome viands.

  "Dar it am," she remarked, when she had set it on the table. "I s'posemos' likely yo' kin eat ef de precious little darlin' is mos' killed bymeans ob yo' bein' in a passion an' kickin' ob her--de sweethoney!--down de steps."

  And turning swiftly about, her head in the air, the girl swept from theroom, leaving Lulu standing in the middle of the floor, fairly struckdumb with indignation, astonishment, and dismay.

  "How dared Agnes--a mulatto servant-girl,--talk so to her! But was thebaby really dying? Would papa never come to tell her the truth about it?She wouldn't believe any thing so dreadful till she heard it from him:very likely Agnes was only trying to torment her, and make her asmiserable as possible."

  She had sunk, trembling, into a chair, feeling as if she should neverwant to eat again; but with that last thought, her hopes revived, hungeronce more asserted its sway, and she ate her breakfast with a good dealof appetite and relish.

  But, when hunger was appeased, fears and anxieties renewed theirassault: she grew half distracted with them, as hour after hour passedon, and no one came near her except another maid, to take away thebreakfast
-dishes and tidy the room.

  On her, Lulu turned her back, holding an open book in her hand, andpretending to be deeply absorbed in its contents, though not a word ofthe sense was she taking in; for, intense as was her desire to learnthe baby's condition, she would not risk any more such stabs to hersensitiveness and pride as had been given by Agnes.

  This one came, did her work, and went away again in silence; but all thetime she was in the room, Lulu felt that she was casting glances ofdisgust and disfavor at her. She could not breathe freely till the girlhad left the room.

  She thought surely the dinner-hour would bring her father; but it didnot: her wants were again supplied by a servant.