Christie Redfern's Troubles Part 19

CHAPTER EIGHT.

"MAN PROPOSES, G.o.d DISPOSES."

But something _did_ happen. That night, when Christie went home, she found Mrs Lee ill. She was not very ill, at least, not much more so than she had been for a long time. She had been quite unfit for the fatigue of nursing her husband, and now that he was better, her strength forsook her. There was a dull, low fever upon her. The doctor said Mrs Greenly must be sent for and the baby must be weaned. Christie's heart sickened as she heard all this. Could she leave the baby to a strange nurse? It would greatly add to the anxiety of the mother, and might hinder her recovery for a time, even to know that the children, and especially the delicate baby, must be left to the care of a stranger. Ought she to go home?

What a wakeful, miserable night she pa.s.sed! She fancied she could bear to stay; but to disappoint Effie and all at home was very painful. Must she stay? It seemed so hard to change her plans now, both for her own sake and theirs.

But the morrow decided the matter for her. Letty was irritable all day and all night, and when the doctor came in the morning, he p.r.o.nounced her symptoms to be those of scarlet fever. So Christie and the other children were banished to the attic-nursery again. She said not another word about going home, except to her sister.

"Tell Effie I couldna get away. It wouldna be right to leave; would it, Annie? I will try and not be very unhappy about it."

But the tears that rolled down her cheeks told how bitter the disappointment was to her. Annie would have lingered a week, even to the shortening of her visit at home, for the sake of having Christie go with her; but this was not to be thought of. The fever might go through the whole family. The doctor thought that most likely it would do so; and she could not better leave at the end of a week than now.

"And don't tell them I was so very much disappointed about it," she said, trying to smile, when Annie rose to go. "They must be all the more glad to see me when I come. I couldna go, Annie. Now, do you really think I could?"

They were up in the attic-nursery. Christie sat with the baby in her lap, while little Harry hung about her, begging to be taken up. The other boys were engaged in some noisy play near the window; but the confinement up-stairs had already made them irritable, and Christie's constant interference was required to keep the peace between them. How much worse it would be if an entire stranger were put in the place of her who had been their kind nurse all the winter! And the poor, anxious mother down-stairs too, how much worse for her!

"No, Christie, dear; considering all things, I think you do right to stay. But it is a great disappointment."

"Make Effie understand how it is." It was only by a great effort that she restrained a flood of tears till her sister had gone. Then they fell upon the baby's frock like rain. The boys looked on in astonishment, and little Harry burst out into a frightened cry, wakening the baby, who joined her voice to his.

"There! there! Hush, baby! hush! Harry, don't cry. Oh me! what shall I do?"

There was but one thing to do, and she tried faithfully to do it;--it was to forget herself and her disappointment, and devote herself to the little ones for the day. And so she did, for that day and many days, with better success than she had dared to hope for. Letty was in the other nursery, next to her mother's room, and for several days Christie saw neither of them. The baby missed her mother less than might have been expected, and submitted to her privation quietly enough. By pa.s.sing the day down-stairs in the dining-room, or out in the yard when the weather was fine, Christie contrived to keep the boys amused and happy most of the time. Mr Lee was absent on one of his business journeys. It was uncertain when he would return; but Nelly was equal to all housekeeping emergencies, and no one spoke of his absence with regret. Mrs Greenly always considered Christie as under her special patronage, as she had been the means of bringing her to the house, and she strove to lighten her burden as much as possible. But it was a weary time, those first ten days after Annie went away.

Christie did not go to church the first Sabbath. It is doubtful whether she would have found the courage, even if she could have been spared.

The next week was not so bad with them. Letty's illness, though severe, proved less so than had been feared at first; and though Mrs Lee grew no better, she did not grow worse. Before the second Sabbath, Letty was p.r.o.nounced out of danger, and Nelly, taking pity on Christie's pale, weary face, offered to take her place with the children while she went to church.

She went early, as usual, and had time for the shedding of some very sorrowful tears before the congregation gathered. I am afraid there was a little bitterness mingled with the sorrow. The good she had done by staying did not seem worth the great sacrifice it had cost. Letty had not been very ill after all. The other children were well, and might have done with a stranger, and she might have been going to the kirk at home with Effie that very day. Besides, Mrs Greenly did not seem to think her staying a great matter--though she had more than once praised her for her care of the children. As for Mrs Lee, she had scarcely seen her; and when she had, she had not alluded to the change in her plans which sickness had made. What had cost her so much, she thought, was a small matter in their view; and it is no wonder that the pang of home-sickness that smote her, as she looked at her sister's empty seat in the kirk, was all the harder to bear because of this. She did not gain much good from the sermon that day. Heedless of some curious-- perhaps pitying--eyes that were turned towards her, she leaned her head on her hand and thought her own dreary thoughts; and when the services were over, she rose and went away with the rest, although uncomforted.

The day pa.s.sed slowly enough. It needed a greater effort than she could make to amuse the children and keep them interested, and they were noisy and trouble some. The baby, too, was fretful, and would by no means be content to sit still; and Christie wandered about with her, listless and miserable, till tea-time. After tea, thankful for the prospect of a little peace, she put the boys to bed, and seating herself by the baby's cot, went back to her sad, unprofitable thoughts again.

It was well for her--though she did not think so--that this moody fit did not last long. Mrs Greenly's step upon the stairs aroused her.

"Christie," said she, "are you reading? Just take your book and go and sit down-stairs, will you? Letty's asleep, and will need nothing, I dare say. If she does, you can call me. Mrs Lee will need nothing either. I don't know how it is that I am so overcome with sleep. I'll lie down and rest a minute or two, and I'll hear the children if they wake."

Christie took her book and went down, but she did not read. Instead of that, she seated herself in the dark on the stairs, and began her unprofitable musings again. Mrs Lee was not asleep. She was evidently feverish and uncomfortable, and turned about and sighed often and heavily. Christie had been told not to go into her room unless she was called, so she sat still a little, beguiled from her own sad thoughts as she took note of the uneasiness of the sick lady.

"Are you there, nurse?" said Mrs Lee, at last.

Christie rose, and went softly in.

"Oh, is it you, Christie? Are the children asleep? How's the baby to-night? I feel very weary and wakeful. I don't know what ails me."

"Shall I call nurse?" asked Christie.

"No. Oh, no. She could do nothing for me. Are you reading? Read to me a little. Perhaps it will quiet me and make me fall asleep."

While Christie brought the light and placed it where Mrs Lee's eyes would not be troubled by it, she said again:

"The children are quite well, nurse tells me. It was very well that you decided not to go home, Christie. I am very glad you stayed."

Christie said nothing.

"I am afraid your sister was disappointed," said Mrs Lee.

"Yes," said Christie. She could not say more. "Do you think you will go soon?"

"I don't know, ma'am." Poor Christie! Going or staying seemed a small matter to Mrs Lee. It would not bear talking about; so she said:

"What shall I read to you?"

"Oh, anything. It doesn't matter. Anything to pa.s.s the time."

Christie turned over a book or two that lay on the table, still at a loss what to choose.

"You had a book in your hand when you came in," said Mrs Lee, presently. "Read that."

It was the Bible; and opening it at random, Christie read. She read softly and slowly, psalm after psalm; and soothed by her voice, Mrs Lee lay and listened. After a time, Christie thought that she slept, and made a pause.

"Do you believe what you have been reading?" she asked, suddenly.

Christie started.

"It's the Bible," said she.

"Yes; I know. Of course you believe it in a general way. Everybody does. But do you take the good of it? That, for instance--'G.o.d is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed.' Are you never afraid?"

Christie did not answer.

"Do you remember what you said to me the other night about your sister, and all things working for good to those who love G.o.d? Are you sure of it? And are you always content with what G.o.d sends you?"

Poor Christie! She sat conscience-stricken, remembering her murmuring spirit through the day.

"If I could be sure that I am one of those to whom G.o.d has given a right to His promises, I think I should be content with all He sends."

She spoke humbly, and in a broken voice.

"Oh, if one could be sure!" murmured Mrs Lee. "If there was any good or pleasant thing in this world of which one could be quite sure! Oh, how weary I am of it all!"

The charm of the reading was broken. She moved her head restlessly on the pillow. Christie went to her.

"Can I do anything for you? Let me bathe your hands and face." And she brought some fresh water. "Sometimes when my head used to ache badly, my mother brushed it softly."

"I thought your mother was dead," said Mrs Lee, raising herself up, and submitting to be tended after Christie's fashion.

"Yes, she died four years ago. I was but a child; but I remember her quite well."