Cora and The Doctor Part 47

Mrs. Marshall sat near me, and said with tears in her eyes, "My dear Mrs. Lenox, you have a great treasure in that lovely girl," (and so indeed I have.) "I hope," she continued, "that the young ladies will endeavor to imitate so worthy an example."

_Wednesday, August 7th._

I have given the children a holiday, on account of the intense heat. I am richly repaid for all my care in the education of Pauline, by the aid she is to me in the care of her sister and brother.

Franky loves her as a teacher, even better than he does me. I fear, he sometimes imposes upon her good nature and her great love for him, by his inattention and restlessness during school-hours. But I really cannot blame them such a day as this, with the thermometer at ninety degrees in the shade.

There is a great deal of sickness in the town, and the Doctor has a number of cases of typhus fever. I think such cases have occurred every year about this season. He now realizes the benefit of so efficient a partner as he finds in Doctor Clapp, whose days of leisure have been long ago forgotten, or only remembered to be sighed for. He has removed to a pleasant residence down in town, and his good wife finds ample employment in the training of her numerous little flock, leaving her culinary department, in which she was so skilful, to the aid which her husband's abundant means enable him to provide.

_Thursday, August 8th._

The heat still continues unabated. I should be inclined to call myself sick, if it were not for my anxiety for the Doctor, who appears to me to be quite unwell, though he will not allow it to be anything of importance, but only the effect of riding in the heat. I do believe physicians make the very worst patients, and dread the taking of medicine more than any other cla.s.s of persons.

_Sat.u.r.day, August 10th._

We have had a most refreshing shower, which has cooled the heated air.

But it does not appear to have revived my poor husband, who though still suffering from a most violent head-ache, yet persisted in going to visit a few of his sickest patients. I am really very anxious, and will set up my authority when he returns. We have long ago settled the vexed question of _obedience_; I am to obey him when he is well, and he is to obey me when he is sick.

_Sabbath, August 11th._

My authority was unnecessary. Dear Frank came home at noon, pale as a ghost, and went willingly to bed. I sent for Dr. Clapp without consulting him, and a powder which he administered has somewhat relieved the pain, so that he is now asleep, while I sit by him.

_Monday, September 2d._

Oh! how much of fear, anxiety and engrossing care has been crowded into the few days which have intervened since I wrote the above.

I have taken my pen, as I sit by the couch of my husband, to relieve my swelling heart. The night succeeding the first call of Dr. Clapp, Frank was perfectly wild with delirium. I was obliged to call Caesar to help me keep him in bed. He did not know us, and supposed we were trying to keep him from getting home. Oh! how my heart ached, as he entreated to be allowed to go home, saying again and again, "my wife will be so anxious."

Sometimes for a minute, he seemed to recognize mother, and then would talk to her in the strangest manner, thinking her a patient or somebody else. Notwithstanding all the skill of his physician, the unceasing watchfulness of friends, or the action of medicine, my dear, _dear_ husband rapidly grew worse. Indeed Dr. Clapp said, he must have had a settled fever for a week before he took his bed. Early on Monday morning, the twelfth ultimo, our kind Doctor sent to the city for Dr.

J----, an eminent physician, to come to Crawford for a consultation.

He arrived by the next train of cars. I watched their looks, and hung upon their words, as if they had the power of life and death in their hands. I knew that Dr. Clapp considered my dear husband a very sick man; but oh! I did not realize till then, that there was hardly a hope of his recovery. Dr. J---- looked very grave, and when his brother physician in a low voice, pointed out some of the symptoms, he shook his head.

I went silently from the room; I could contain myself no longer. They soon retired to consult upon the case, after which I begged them to tell me exactly what they thought of their patient. Dr. Clapp turned hastily away, while Dr. J---- pressed my hand, saying, "My dear madam, we are all in the hands of G.o.d."

I almost gasped for breath, as I tried to say, "but you think he will live, oh! say that he will live."

The kind Doctor put his handkerchief to his eyes, as he answered, "while there is life, there is hope, but I ought not to deceive you."

"Oh!" said I, while weeping bitter tears, "I can't hear you say that I may not hope."

Dr. Clapp wrung my hand, and wept aloud, "I shall lose the best friend I ever had," said he, while I sank back almost fainting into a chair. Dr.

J---- sat down by me, and tried to compose my feelings, saying that I should be ill myself, and that my dear husband had lived a useful life, and was prepared to enter upon his glorious inheritance; but every word cut deeper and deeper into my heart, convincing me that they had given up all hope. I pressed my hand to my head which seemed to be flying off, and rushed from the room. I flew to the farther end of the house, to a room the most remote from that where lay my sick, and as they thought, my dying husband. I threw myself upon the bed and wept aloud. My heart was in a dreadful state of rebellion against my Maker. The most awful thoughts came into my mind; but I drove them hence; "Why should I lose my husband? I do not wish to live without him. I cannot give him up,"

was the language of my unsubmissive heart. But all at once the thought of my horrible ingrat.i.tude to my heavenly Father, who had bestowed upon me such a companion, and who had allowed us to live together so many years, struck me dumb. I arose from my bed, threw myself upon my knees, and plead earnestly for pardon, and for a submissive spirit. I knew, I felt, I confessed that I had made an idol of my dear Frank, and I cried fervently for a spirit to say,

"The dearest idol I have known, Whate'er that idol be, Help me to tear it from thy throne, And worship only thee."

Long and severe was the struggle with my hard and undutiful feelings.

But the answer came at length, and with tears which were no longer bitter, I arose and was enabled by divine grace to say, "The Lord gave and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord." I felt a sweet peace in giving him, whom I best loved to my Saviour, and it seemed but a very short time before I should go to him and dwell with him, where there would be no more sorrow, and no more parting, but where all tears would be wiped from our eyes.

When I went back to the sick room, however, and saw the pale, haggard countenance, the sunken eyes, and heard the labored breath, my heart sunk within me, as I realized that he would soon pa.s.s from my sight, without one parting word, one farewell kiss. As I stood gazing at him, the inspired pa.s.sage occurred to me, "In whose hands our breath is, and whose are all our ways." I then remembered that G.o.d had power to restore the emaciated form before me, to new life and vigor. The thought that it might be his will to give my husband back to me, even from the borders of the grave, sent the warm blood throbbing through me. I again poured out my heart in prayer to G.o.d, not for myself, but for the life of my husband. I renewedly dedicated him to G.o.d. I cried out, "Oh! my heavenly Father, give me his life."

Dear mother also was besieging the throne of grace in his behalf. But he lay unconscious of the agonized hearts throbbing near him, anxiously watching every breath he drew.

Dr. Clapp was to be with him through Monday night. Mother besought me to try to sleep. I wondered if she thought I could ever sleep again? But I only shook my head. The crisis was rapidly approaching. I saw that not a sigh, or a groan escaped the notice of our kind physician; but I was calm. I even wondered at myself. A strong, but invisible arm was put round about me to strengthen me, and I leaned upon it to sustain my drooping spirit. The night pa.s.sed slowly away, the morning began to dawn; not a word had been spoken for the past hour. Dr. Clapp sat with his fingers upon the wrist of his patient, where he could scarce feel the fluttering pulse. Ever and anon he would take the candle from the table, hold it before the face of the pale sufferer, and then silently shade it again.

At length he arose, and putting his fingers upon his lips, to enjoin perfect silence, he withdrew from the room. Nothing could be heard but the ticking of the watch and our own loud breathing. It seemed a long, _long_ time that the Doctor was absent, and when he came in, I saw he had been weeping. In an agony of grief my very soul yearned for one more look, one more word of love. I hardly dared to uncover my face. When I did so, the Doctor was wetting his patient's lips with a sponge. Then he sat down again, with his fingers upon the pulse.

What had come over the man? I wiped my eyes to see clearer. His whole face was lit up with an expression, to which it had for many days been a stranger; but I dared not hope. Again and again the sponge was dipped in the cup and applied to the parched lips, and still we sat, as though we had no tongues, or knew not how to use them, when feeling that I could not breathe, I silently arose and left the room. The kind watcher followed, and leading me down stairs to the library, shut the door, and in a husky voice said, "My dear Mrs. Lenox, the crisis has pa.s.sed, and your husband still lives."

I started from my chair. "Compose yourself, my dear lady," he continued.

"There is hope that he may recover," and our sympathizing friend wept tears of joy.

But for me the reaction was too great. I felt myself falling to the floor. When I recovered Pauline was bathing my temples. Dr. Clapp had left the room and returned to his patient. I speedily recovered and followed him, and was softly stepping toward the bed where mother sat holding her beloved son by the hand. But the physician saw me and motioned me back. I withdrew into the hall, where he soon joined me, and leading me away from the door, said, "Your husband is now conscious, and will recognize you. Can you compose yourself? The least excitement may be fatal to him."

After a moment, in which I tried to hush the loud beating of my heart, and to breathe a prayer for strength, I said, "I think I can," and we again entered the room. I walked silently to the bed, and looked at my darling Frank. His eyes were closed and his face closely resembled death; but when he feebly opened his eyes, the light of reason beamed thence, and he knew me. I kissed his forehead and almost flew from the room. My heart was filled with the most delightful emotions of grat.i.tude and joy, "and though my voice was silent, being stopped by the intenseness of what I felt, yet my soul sung within me and even leaped for joy." The emotion was so intense as to be nearly allied to pain. I pressed my hand to my heart to keep it from bursting. I heard a gentle step, and my sweet Pauline sat by my side, and drawing my head to her breast, sought to soothe my agitated feelings. She had been weeping.

"Dear mamma," she whispered, "I am so happy, I have been trying to thank G.o.d for making dear father better."

"My love," said I, "will you thank our heavenly Father for me?" As we sat, she breathed out her heart to G.o.d like one who was used to going to him, as to a tender father. I pressed her to me and thanked G.o.d for so great a treasure.

_Wednesday, September 4th._

I was proceeding with my writing, the day before yesterday, supposing Frank to be asleep, when he put his hand upon mine, and said, "my love, you have wept quite enough."

While scarcely conscious of the fact, I had been continually wiping my eyes, to enable me to see the page. Many tears I see have fallen upon my paper.

"They are tears of grat.i.tude," I replied, lifting his hand to my lips.

"My heart is so full it overflows." There were answering tears in his eyes then; "Cora," said he with the utmost tenderness, "while I lay upon this bed, and in the near prospect of death, I saw that I had made idols of the dear ones G.o.d has given me; and I resolved, his grace strengthening me, that I would devote myself more entirely to him. We cannot love each other too much, my own wife; but let us love G.o.d more.

While we love each other, and our dear children, let us not forget him, who so loved us as to die for us."

_Tuesday, September 10th_.

My dear husband gains but slowly. He has not yet been able to have his bed made, but he says, he does not suffer except from weakness. After being absent from the room about an hour to give Nelly her music lesson, I returned and took Pauline's place by her father's side, requesting her to go out with the children for a walk.

He took up the book, she had turned down upon the bed, supposing I should continue the reading. "I hardly know," said he, "which to admire the more, the skill of the teacher, or the proficiency of the pupil.

Pauline is a fine reader, and her voice is very musical."

"Yes," I answered, "I have often thought her voice low and melodious as the daughters of Italy."

"She may be one of them," he replied, closing his eyes. "Cora," he resumed after a short pause, "I have had time to think of a great many things since I lay here, and I feel that I have not dealt justly by our daughter, Pauline."