Wives and Widows; or The Broken Life Part 22

THE FIRST SOUND SLEEP.

I sat down by the young man's bed; I talked to him in a low voice--a great deal of nonsense, I dare say; I was not thinking how it might sound, but was only anxious to soothe him; and while I talked I smoothed his hair and pa.s.sed my hand slowly across his forehead, after a fashion which I had acquired in my attendance upon Mrs. Lee, during her numerous illnesses.

I cannot pretend to account for it, but from my earliest girlhood I always had a faculty for taking care of sick people, and of soothing them when no other person could.

My art did not fail that time. Bosworth's voice grew lower and lower; his hands crossed themselves upon the counterpane; his eyes closed, and very soon his measured breathing proved that he was quietly asleep. When I looked up, that stately old d.u.c.h.ess of a grandmother was regarding me with such a blessing in her eyes, that I felt the dew steal into mine; while the younger lady, subdued out of her fidgetiness, appeared almost tranquil, and was quite silent.

n.o.body stirred or spoke. There we sat and watched the sick man as he slept--that quiet sleep which the physician had p.r.o.nounced so necessary for him, and which his art had failed to procure. It is not often that I feel thoroughly satisfied with Martha Hyde, but I confess that just then I did; not that it proceeded from a sense of self-importance, or anything of that sort, but it is seldom that a quiet person like me has an opportunity of doing good to anybody, and when the occasion does arrive, it is more pleasant than I can at all describe.

Bosworth must have slept nearly an hour; the instant he opened his eyes, I saw that the fever had abated a little. He smiled faintly at his mother and the old lady; then his glance fell upon me. Through the feverish flush still on his face there appeared a glow of thankfulness and pleasure, which was beautiful to behold.

"Is that you, Miss Hyde?" he asked.

"Yes," I said; "I have been sitting here for some time. You have had a nice sleep; to-morrow you will be better."

"Thank you; I hope so."

Little Mrs. Bosworth began to flutter; but the old lady put her down with a strong hand, and the weak female subsided into her chair, meek as a hen-pigeon that has been unexpectedly pecked by her mate.

I saw, by the way Bosworth looked at them, that he wished to speak with me alone; the old d.u.c.h.ess saw it too, and said, with the decision which was evidently habitual to her:

"My daughter, if Miss Hyde will sit with our boy a little longer, we will go into the garden for a breath of air."

Bosworth called them to him, kissed his mother's cheek, and the grandmother's hand, and the old lady went out in her stately way, while the small woman followed in her wake, like a little boat tacked to a graceful yacht.

"Miss Hyde," said the young man, the moment the door closed, "you came alone?"

"Yes," I replied; "I hurried off without telling any one where I was going."

"You are very kind," he repeated. "They are all well, I hope, at the house?"

"Very well; they will be sorry to hear that you are sick."

"Miss Hyde!" he exclaimed, hurriedly,--so weak from sickness that he forgot all the reticence and self-command which characterized him in health,--"Miss Hyde, do you think she would come to see me?"

I knew whom he meant--there was no necessity for mentioning any name.

"Would she come, do you believe?" he asked again.

"I am certain that she would," I replied. "You are an old friend to all of us; why should she not?"

"Yes, an old friend," he answered, sadly; "I know, I know! I won't pain her; she shall not be troubled; promise to bring her, Miss Hyde."

"I can promise unhesitatingly," I said; "I have no doubt Mr. Lee will bring her himself, to-morrow."

"To-morrow--oh! how much I thank you!" And he smiled like a tired child.

"Will you call my mother now?" he continued; "she will feel troubled if she thinks I can do without her."

I went out into the hall, where the two ladies stood, and beckoned them into the room. We all remained about the bed for a few moments, talking cheerfully; then I bade Bosworth good-bye, answered the entreaty in his eyes with a smile, and went down-stairs.

The grandmother followed me, and, when we reached the outer door, took my hand between both of hers.

"You are very good!" she said. "We have long been strangers to each other, Miss Hyde; but an old woman's blessing cannot hurt you, and I give it to you."

I was so much affected, that it was all I could do to keep from crying like a child; but I did not give way, and, mutually anxious to restrain our feelings, we parted with a certain degree of haste, which an un.o.bservant looker-on might have construed into indifference. But I think that grand old woman understood me, even from that short interview, and I know that, for my part, I went forth from her presence solemnized and calmed as one leaves a church.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE INTERVIEW IN THE WOODS.

I walked slowly homeward, reflecting upon the events of the morning, and waiting, oh, how fervently! that Jessie Lee might learn to know young Bosworth as I did, and be able to shed a ray of light into the darkness wherein he had fallen.

I left the path through the fields, and took my way into the woods, as I knew a short cut that would lead me more quickly into our grounds.

I had pa.s.sed half through the grove, perhaps, scarcely heeding anything around me, but on reaching a little ascent, I saw, through a break in the trees, two persons standing at a considerable distance from the path. Their backs were toward me, but I recognized them instantly. They were Mrs. Dennison and Mr. Lawrence.

I understood at once the meaning of the note which she had sent to him--it was to ask for that interview.

Every day my dislike of that woman increased; each effort that I made to conquer the feeling only seemed to make it grow more intense, and this last plot that I had unintentionally discovered filled me with something very like abhorrence. Of course, I was not so silly as to conjure anything really wrong out of the request she had made; but I was certain that something more than trivial coquetry was hidden under it.

Instinctively, I began to tremble for Jessie: by what series of ideas I managed to connect her with that meeting, I cannot say; but I did so, and after that first glance I went on, burning with indignation against the artful woman, who seemed to have brought numberless shadows into the sunshine, which, before her coming, had pervaded our pleasant home.

Once, as I hastened on through the dark woods, I looked back at the pair,--they were conversing earnestly. In Lawrence's manner there was a degree of impetuosity and impatience; while from Mrs. Dennison's att.i.tude and gestures I felt certain that she was pleading with him to change some purpose he had formed.

Just as I pa.s.sed from the woods into the grounds, I saw that ubiquitous Lottie steal out from among the trees, and flit like a lapwing toward the house.

It was not difficult to imagine what new mischief she had been at--spying and listening, no doubt. Lottie did not count it a sin, and I knew very well that she had been coolly out into the woods to overhear Mrs. Dennison's conversation with Lawrence.

Some noise that I made attracted her attention; she dropped down on her knees--like a rabbit trying to hide itself in the gra.s.s--and began hunting for four-leaved clovers where clover had never grown since the memory of man.

"What are you doing, Lottie?" I asked, walking toward her.

She looked round with a fine show of innocence, although her eyes twinkled suspiciously.

"Oh! it's you, Miss Hyde," she said, in no wise confused, rising from her knees with great deliberation and majesty.

"Yes, it is I. And what brings you here?" I inquired.

"There's several things I might have been doing," she answered, walking on by my side; "picking flowers, or saying my prayers, or--"

"Well--what else?"

"Oh! anything you please; poetry people ought to be able to guess."