"Then my heart was almost broken to think I had been so churlish toward my beloved Master and I resigned her cheerfully into His care, and by and by grew happy in thinking of her, so safe from all sin and sorrow and pain, so full of joy, at His right hand; and of the time when my work shall be done and I shall go to her."
Mrs. Chetwood thought for a moment, then turning to her friend with eyes brimful of tears, "Thank you," she said, "your words have done me good. Surely I too, can spare Him one. Had He taken all, what right could I have to complain? and oh, how sweet is the thought that He is caring so tenderly for my precious lambkin!"
The mothers mingled their tears again for a little, tears of blended grief and joy; then Mrs. Chetwood said "What else dear friend? I seem to read in your eyes that you have something more to say to me."
"Only this, suggested to me by the same old Christian soldier and confirmed by my own experience; that efforts to comfort others react upon ourselves, so proving the best panacea for our own sorrow."
"I believe it, am conscience-smitten that I have been so selfishly wrapped up in my own grief, and shall set about the work at once. Will you do me the favor to suggest where I shall begin?"
Mrs. Keith spoke of Gotobed and the sort of comfort and assistance of which he stood in need.
Mrs. Chetwood shuddered. "Poor, poor fellow!" she said; "my heart aches for him. I feel sick at the very thought of seeing any one in that mutilated condition, but I will go to him and do what I can for his comfort and relief."
"Thank you," returned Mrs. Keith heartily "And speak comfortingly to the poor mother. She is grieving very much for him, and does not look well. One of the little girls, too, is quite ill with intermittent fever."
It was well that Mrs. Keith had engaged her friend to take up the labor of love, for it was long before she herself could resume it. On reaching home she found Mildred sitting with Annis in her arms, the little creature moaning with pain and in a high fever.
"Mother, she is very sick," whispered Mildred tremulously, her eyes full of tears; for she was thinking of how suddenly Mary Chetwood had been snatched away by the grim destroyer Death.
"I fear she is, poor darling! poor little pet!" the mother said, bending over her and softly pressing her lips to the burning cheek.
"O mother, mother, if we should lose her!"
"We will do all we can to make her well, asking God's blessing on our efforts," Mrs. Keith answered with determined cheerfulness, though a sharp pang shot through her heart at the bare suggestion.
Dr. Grange was sent for at once. He pronounced the child very ill, but by no means hopelessly so.
"The sickly season," he remarked, "is setting in unusually early and with uncommon severity, both in town and country; people are taken down with the fever every day. But it is what I have been expecting as the result of the long heavy rains we had all through the spring, succeeded by this intensely hot, dry weather. Why we haven't had a drop of rain now, scarcely a cloud, for three weeks; the heavens above us are as brass, and the marshes and pools of stagnant water on every side are teeming with miasma.
"Keep the children and yourselves out of the sun during the heat of the day, and do not on any account allow them to be exposed to the night air and dew."
"Thank you for your suggestions," said Mr. Keith, "we will do our best to follow them."
He had just come home from his office; for it was near tea-time. The children too had come in from their work or play, and the whole family were gathered in the sitting-room, where the baby girl lay in her cradle, mother and sister hanging over her in tender solicitude.
Fan had climbed her father's knee and was lying very quiet in his arms with her head on his shoulder.
The doctor taking his hat to go, paused as his eye fell on her, and stepping quickly to her side, took her hand in his.
"This child is sick too," he said, and went on to question and prescribe for her, directing that she should be put to bed at once.
"Oh," sighed Mildred, "if we only had Aunt Wealthy here!"
"I wish you had," the doctor said; "but the neighbors here are always very kind in times of sickness."
"Yes; we have had experience of that in the past," replied Mrs. Keith.
The doctor called on Mrs. Chetwood and Mrs. Prior on his homeward way, and within an hour both were at Mr. Keith's offering their services in nursing or any thing else that was needed.
"You are very kind," Mrs. Keith said, "but I think we can manage for a while, and that you should save your strength for those who need it more."
The little ones objected to being waited upon by strangers, and Celestia Ann insisted that she wanted no help with her housework or cooking; so the ladies departed after exacting a promise that they should be sent for if needed.
That time came soon; before the crisis was passed with Annis and Fan, three more of the children, Zillah, Cyril, and Don, were taken down; then the father; and oh, what a weary burden of care, anxiety, toil and grief fell upon the mother and sister! They had sore need now of all the faith, patience and hope they had garnered up in happier days; of all the great and precious promises they had learned to lean upon.
Rupert was slowly dressing himself one August morning, feeling weak and ill, when his mother's pale, sorrowful face looked in at his door.
He tried to brighten up and seem strong and well as he turned to meet her, asking, "How are you, mother dear? and the sick ones? I hope you all slept."
"Not much," she said, vainly striving after the accustomed cheery tone. "Annis and Fan did pretty well (oh, I am thankful that the doctor considers them out of danger now, if we can only give them the good nursing they need,) but poor Cyril is quite delirious, very, very sick, I fear, and Zillah not much better. Besides—" but here her voice broke, and for a moment she was unable to go on.
"O mother, not another one down?" he cried, "You and Mildred will be killed with so much nursing."
"Rupert, it is your father now," she sobbed. "He tries to makes us believe it is not much; that he'll sleep it off in an hour or so, but oh, I can see that he's very sick."
"My father very sick," he echoed, aghast; "poor father! and you must lose his help with the others, and have him to nurse, too!"
"That is not the worst of it. He is suffering and perhaps in danger. Celestia Ann has breakfast nearly ready. I want you to eat at once then go for the doctor (he did not come last night) and call and tell Mrs. Chetwood and Mrs. Prior what a sick household we are and that now if they can give me help in nursing, I shall be very glad and thankful."
Mrs. Keith passed on into the kitchen.
"Breakfast's on table," said Celestia Ann. "You just sit down and eat, Mis' Keith; fur you look ready to drop. I'll pour you out a cup o' coffee, and then run in and look after the sick till you're done."
"Thank you," Mrs. Keith said, "though I have no desire for food, I will accept your offer, for I do feel faint and empty. Tell Mildred to come too, as soon as she can be spared."
Rupert and Ada came in together at that moment and took their places at the table.
