Stranica 177 [177]
129
nappy with her for some years — too
happy, perhaps, and it may be time that
I should meet with some misfortune; but
I hope it is not this.”
s What misfortune, ma’am ?” inquired
Oliver.
c The heavy blow,” said the old lady,
almost inarticulately, “of losing the dear
irl who has so long been my comfort and
appiness.”’
s Oh! God forbid!” exclaimed Oliver
hastily.
“Amen to that, my child!” said the
old lady, wringing her hands.
“Surely there is no danger of anything
so dreadful!” said Oliver. "Two hours
ago she was quite well.”
“She is very ill now,” rejoined Mrs.
Maylie, sand will be worse, I am sure,
My dear, dear Rose! Oh, what should I
do without her!"
The lady sank beneath her desponding
—— and gave way to such great
grief that Oliver, suppressing his own
emotion, ventured to remonstrate with
her, and to beg earnestly that for the sake
of the dear young lady herself she would
be more calm.
6 And consider, ma’am,” said Oliver,
as the tears forced themselves into his
eyes despite his efforts to the contrary ;
“oh! consider how young and good she
is, and what pleasure and comfort she
gives to all about her. I am sure—cer¬
tain—quite certain—that for your sake,
who are so yourself, and for her
own, and for the sake of all she makes so
happy, she will not die. God will never
let her die yet.”
“ Hush!" said Mrs. Maylie, laying her
hand on Oliver’s head. You think like
a child, poor boy ; and although what you
say may be natural, it is wrong. But
ésa teach me my duty notwithstanding.
had forgotten it for a moment, Oliver,
and I hope I may be pardoned, for I am
old, and have seen enough of illness and
death to know the pain they leave to
those behind. I have seen enough, too,
to know that it is not always the youngest
and best who are spared to those that
love them; but this should give us com¬
fort rather than sorrow, for Heaven is
just, and such things teach us impres¬
sively that there is a far brighter world
than this, and that the sort, ~ to it is
speedy. God’s»will be done! but I love
her, and He alone knows how well !”
Oliver was surprised to see that as
Mrs. Maylie said these words she check¬
ed her Schantetions as though by one
struggle, and, drawing herself up as she
spoke, became quite composed and firm.
He was still more astonished to find that
this firmness lasted, and that under all
the care and watching which ensued,
Mrs. Maylie was ever ready and collect¬
ed, performing all the duties which de¬
volved upon her steadily, and, to all ex¬
ternal appearance, even cheerfully. But
he was young, and did not know what
strong minds are capable of under trying
circumstances. How should he, indeed,
when their possessors so seldom know
themselves ?
An anxious night ensued, and when
morning came Mrs. Maylie’s predictions
were but too well verified. Rose was in
the first stage of a high and dangerous
fever.
s We must be active, Oliver, and not
give way to useless grief,” said Mrs.
Maylie, laying her finger on her lip as
she looked steadily into his face; “ this
letter must be sent with all possible ex¬
pedition to Mr. Losberne. It must be
carried to the market-town, which is not
more than four miles off by the foot-path
across the fields, and thence despatched
by an express on horseback straight to
Chertsey. The people at the inn will
undertake to do this, and I can trust you
to see it done, I know.”
Oliver could make no reply, but looked
his anxiety to be gone at once.
c Here is another letter,” said Mrs.
Maylie, pausing to reflect; “ but whether
to send it now, or wait until I see how
Rose goes on, I scarcely know. I would
not forward it unless I feared the worst.”
“Ts it for Chertsey, too, ma’am ?” in¬
quired Oliver, impatient to execute his
commission, and holding out his trembling
hand for the letter.
“ No,” replied the old lady, giving it
him mechanically. Oliver glanced at it,
and saw that it was directed to Harry
Maylie, Esquire, at some lord’s house in
the country; where, he could not make
out.
“Shall it go, ma’am?’ asked Oliver,
looking up impatiently.
s] think not,” replied Mrs. Maylie,
taking it back. “I will wait till to-mor¬
row.”
With these words she gave Oliver her
purse, and he started off without more
delay at the greatest speed he could
muster.
Swiftly he ran across the fields, and
down the little lanes which sometimes
divided them, now almost hidden by the
high corn on either side, and now em¬
erging into an open field where the