The Wedding Guest Part 6

But all emotion was instantly repressed, and quietly as ever came the answer--

"Certainly, my child, I love you all. But lie down now, and take some rest. You have been dreaming."

"'Twas such a happy dream," murmured the patient little sufferer, as obedient to her mother's words she again closed her eyes, and lay motionless upon her pillow. Once more she slept, and a sweet smile beamed upon her countenance, and her lips moved as if about to speak. The watchful mother bent over her.

"Kiss me again, dear mother," lisped the slumberer. "Call me your dear little Eva."

None could tell the workings of that stricken heart, as hour after hour the mother watched by her sleeping child; but the dawn of morning found her still the same; statue-like as marble, that once speaking face reflected not the fires within.

Day after day pa.s.sed on, and it was evident that the spirit of the innocent child would soon rejoice in its heavenly home.

She could no longer raise her wasted little form from the bed of pain, but still her deep blue eyes gazed lovingly upon those around her, and her soft voice spoke of patience and submission.

The last hour drew near, and the little sufferer lay in her mother's arms. The destroyer claimed but the frail earthly covering, and even now the immortal soul shone forth in its heavenly brightness.

"Am I not going to my Father in Heaven?" she whispered, as she gazed earnestly upon her mother's face.

"Yes, dearest, yes," was the almost inaudible reply.

"And will the good angels watch over me, and be to me as a mother?"

again asked the child.

"Far, far better than any earthly parent, my dear one."

A radiant smile illumined the countenance of the dying child. The fond words of her mother were sweet music to her ear.

The father approached, and bent over her.

"My little Eva," he whispered, "will you not speak to me?"

"I love you, dear father," was the earnest answer, "and when I am in Heaven I will pray for you, and for my poor mother;" and again those speaking eyes were riveted upon the mother's face, as if she would read her inmost griefs.

The physician entered, and, in the vain hope of prolonging life, judged it necessary to make some external applications to relieve the difficulty of breathing, which was fast increasing. The pain was borne without a murmur.

"Do I not try to be patient, mother?" whispered that little voice.

"Yes, darling, you are a dear, patient, good little girl."

An expression of happiness, amounting almost to rapture, beamed in Eva's face, at these words of unqualified praise.

"Oh, mother! dear, dear mother," she exclaimed, "will you not always call your little Eva your dear, good little girl? Oh, I will try to be so very good if you will. My heart is so glad now," and with the strength produced by the sudden excitement, she clasped her feeble arms about her mother's neck.

"Her mind begins to wander," whispered the physician to the father; but there was no reply. A sudden light had broken upon that stern man, and motionless he stood, and listened to the words of his dying child.

But she had already sunk back in an apparent slumber, and hour after hour those calm but agonized parents sat watching by her side, at times almost believing that the spirit had indeed gone, so deep was the repose of that last earthly slumber.

At length she aroused, and with the same beautiful smile which had played upon her features when she sunk to rest, again exclaimed,

"I am so very happy, dear mother; will you call me your good little Eva once more?"

In a voice almost suffocated with emotion, the desired words were again breathed forth, and long and fervent kisses imprinted upon the child's pale cheek.

"My heart is so glad!" she murmured. "Oh, mother, kiss my brothers when I am gone, and smile upon them and call them good. It is like the sunlight on a cloudy day.

"Put your face close to mine, dear father, and let me whisper in your ear. Call poor mother good, sometimes, and kiss her as you do me, now that I am dying, and she will never look so sad any more."

"I will, my precious child! I will!" And the head of the strong man bowed upon his breast, and he wept.

A change pa.s.sed over the countenance of the little one.

"The angels will take me now," she whispered. The eyelids closed, there was no struggle, but the parents saw that her mission on earth was ended. Henceforth she would rejoice in the world where all is light and love.

The mother wept not as she gazed upon that lifeless clay. She wept not as she laid the little form upon the bed, and straightened the limbs already stiffening in the embrace of death; but when her husband clasped her to his bosom, and uttered words of endearing affection, a wild scream burst from her lips, and she sunk back in his arms, apparently as unconscious as the child who lay before them.

A long and alarming state of insensibility was succeeded by weeks of fever and delirium.

How many bitter but useful lessons did the husband learn as he watched by her bed-side! Often in the still hours of the night, when all save himself slumbered, she would gaze upon him with that earnest, loving, but reproachful look, which he well remembered to have seen in years gone by, and murmur,

"Just one kind glance, Henry, one little kiss, one word of love and praise."

And then as he bent fondly over her, that cold, fixed expression, which she had so long worn, would again steal over her countenance, and mournfully she added,

"Too late, too late. The heart is seared and dead. See, little Eva stands and beckons me to the land of love. Yes, dear one, I come."

But the crisis came, and though feeble as an infant, the physicians declared the danger past. Careful nursing, and freedom from excitement, would restore the wife and mother to her family.

With unequalled tenderness did her husband watch over her, but with returning health returned also that unnatural frigidity of manner.

There was no response to his words or looks of love.

Was it, indeed, too late? Had his knowledge of the wants of a woman's heart come only when the heart, which once beat for him alone, had become as stone?

It was the anniversary of their marriage. Eleven years before they had stood at the altar and taken those holy vows. Well did Henry Howard recollect that bridal morning. And how had he fulfilled the trust reposed in him? With bitter remorse he gazed upon the wreck before him, and thought of that gentle being once so full of love and joy.

An earnest prayer broke from his lips, and his arms were clasped around her.

"Mary, dear Mary," he whispered, "may not the past be forgotten?

Grievously have I erred, but believe me, it has been partly through ignorance. An orphan from my earliest childhood, I knew not the blessing of a mother's love. Cold and stern in my nature, I comprehended not the wants of your gentle spirit. I see it all now: your constant self-denial, your untiring efforts to please, until, wearied and discouraged, your very heart's-blood seemed chilled within you, and you became the living image of that cold heartlessness which had caused the fearful change.

"But may we not forget the past? Will you not be once more my loving, joyous bride, and the remainder of my life shall be devoted to your happiness?"

Almost fearful was the agitation which shook that feeble frame, and it was long before there was a reply.

At length, in the words of little Eva, she whispered, "Oh my husband! My own dear husband! My heart is so glad! I had thought it cold and dead, but now it again beats responsive to your words of love. The prayers of my angel-child have been answered, and happiness will yet be ours. My dear, dear Eva, how often have I wept as I thought of my coldness toward her, and yet all power to show my earnest love seemed gone for ever."

"It slumbered, dearest, but it is not gone. The breath of affection will again revive your warm-hearted, generous nature, and our remaining little ones will rejoice in the sunshine of a mother's love. Our Eva, from her heavenly home, will gaze with joy upon those she held so dear."

Another year, and few would have recognised that once dreary home.